Lyrics Dead Shall Rise - Army of the Pharaohs, Vinnie Paz, Apathy

Dead Shall Rise

AOTP, we above the law
See the cops start running nigga call the dogs
They can’t see me, I throw that molotov
And clear the whole field out, nigga call the gods
AOTP, we above the law
See the cops start running nigga call the dogs
You can’t see me, I throw that molotov
And clear the whole field out, nigga call the gods
I don’t give a fuck about you
I swing my blade and take a chunk up out you
Chase the driver that’s trying to save you and lace em with the scalpel
Break your adam’s apple and clap you and leave you mangled
I’m not the asshole claiming Philly, I’m blowing up the fucking castle
Fuck pity and mercy I’m thirsty for the title
Kill your vitals with verses, curse
And hearses move em like Vinny Idol
Take Vinny and Planet, mould them inside a bowling ball
Launch em against the way you claim you carry, break your shoulders off
Just for showing off you’re stupid
I don’t threaten niggas, I really do this
Squeeze the juice out of you like embalming fluid
Burn his lid, barbeque em and fucking burn his ribs
Throw the dresser away with the evidence, burn a fucking wig
I got plans for your murder and I’m ready to discuss em
You’re ready to die?
Tell God I said, «Fuck him.»
Call me Iron Fist motherfucker I aim hard
Bullets are free throw, silencer is the proof guard
Said you was a crook but you ain’t busting no lead homes
Only jack you pulling is connected to some headphones
The sound of the clap louder than several operas
My sitcom screaming «I'm gonna kill you» across the teleprompter
Yes I’m sick fuck the Zicam and Zyrtec
How you gonna fight man when y’all resemble Smurfette?
Stretch your neck till your head meets your ass
I’ll beat your dad dead now he’s a deadbeat dad
Nothing is ever promised, especially your life I demolish
Too many niggas claim street but wouldn’t last in the projects
Too many happy-go-lucky cats rap with no money
Black why you gotta act?
I be screaming where the money at?
I never understood your hood mentality
Man you still selling weed on the block dog, that’s blasphemy
That’s embarrassing, you nickel and diming
A small cut off a bundle and you thinking you shining
I could rumble in the jungle and tussle with all the lions
My hustle could turn to rustle but for now I’m surviving
Living, my kids are chilling and I’m whipping the Newboy
It ain’t a Maybach but it’s better than your toy
I’m a motherfucking warlock, get your jaw popped by the raw rock
Use your tongue as a doorstop, with your face I floor mop
Get your pores popped like a dermatologist
I’m wilding with thugs who go in your mouth like Polydent
I body shit, I ruin you homes
Turn your studio session into a funeral home
Two in your dome, got young bucks who buck for us
Homie follow the laws of God and Chuck Norris
AOTP, we in good company
Screaming we the fucking world champs like Chase Utley
My whole fam-o, tuck and engadge, busting AKs
Now your block sounding like the Mummers Parade
I’ve been catching fucking bodies for twenty years
From eating motherfuckers on the street up to bloody tears
Camouflage backpacks, Timbs and some money wares
Now these rap faggots fucking sweeter than Gummy Bears
This isn’t simple arithmetic, this is ancient math
Make you lose your faith in Jehovah like you was Damon Dash
I take a fucking machete and cut your brain in half
You’re fucking with something deadly and Vinnie Satan laughs
I’m the greatest rapper alive, but Vin biased
Cause I ain’t get my chance to shine, call me Len Bias
I’ll be patiently waiting for you if then try us
I don’t call it writing no more, I call it a pen virus
You faggot mixtape rappers I should snap your throat
Bunch of tracks cracking jokes about crack and coke
Release the Kraken, Ap is the cracker’s last hope
Honkey Kong fucking bitches leaving mattresses broke
If the condom break I’mma tell the bitch to abort
I’m like the sniper on the roof looking out for the stork
Little dorks getting shanked for a box of Newports
There ain’t a jail that could hold me cause Ap teleports
Skipping court on the porch with the criminal sorts
You using couch cushions building living room forts
Your moms pouring yeyo on my dick to snort
I only rock a halo to hide horns and pitchforks