Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dead Shall Rise, artist - Army of the Pharaohs. Date of issue: 29.10.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
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 |