Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Digital War, artist - Army of the Pharaohs. Album song In Death Reborn, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 21.04.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Enemy Soil
Song language: English
Digital War |
We perform illegal operations, like bad Windows software |
Draped in ninja assault gear |
Engineered cross hairs, my target |
Money farmer, I stay harvesting commerce |
Turn down your offers, piss on your eight thou' |
I live a lonely life, my only friend is Paypal |
Vest over the thermal, position the blammer |
Watching your family through the wall with thermo-vision, infrared on your |
grandma |
She’ll die when I say so |
Telescope on top of the flamer, like Galileo |
I was walking through Mars with a pocket full of stars |
Tryna think of new bars for the Army of the Gods |
Lord help me to achieve all these tricks up my sleeve |
Gotta pull them shits out, bring 'em out, let 'em breathe |
I’m the oddity of space, camaraderie’s embrace |
No dicotomy but best believe autonomy’s in place |
For the broccoli, I make sure that homily is laced |
No apologies, here till the economy is straight |
I’m the reason that your baby feeling colicky today |
I’m a product of the prophecy, then profit off the play |
Probably pick the wallabies, the top off delay |
It’s that nigga Planetary, if it pop off, I stay |
I swear, rappers getting fucked up this year |
They’ll wind up with their whole brain cavity clear |
Put the barrel to you ear, last thing you hear |
Is your soul tryna break through the Earth’s atmosphere |
Yay though I walk through the valley of the shadow |
I’m a sniper with a rifle, sending death through the barrel |
This is shotgun poetry, a slam-down symphony |
Love is a battle, fellow Pharaohs is my infantry |
Alien gun connect, plutonium gats |
Sending niggas on they backs like linoleum plat |
This ain’t Fab Five Freddie, I’m Freddie with the knives on my gloves and I’m |
ready |
To cut a nigga face like confetti |
For fuckin' with a live nigga cheddy |
I bet he never thought I’d turn his wig to spaghetti |
Literally nigga I’m a lyrical vet |
The stripes on my sleeve, purple hearts on my chest |
Pharaoh |
Back in the lab and attacking the pad |
Huntin' down the wack rappers smacking their dad |
Back when Chad was a Bengal, I was stranglin' these demons like Kurt |
Angle and schemin' on Earth |
Angels are leaving their words, dangle my flow |
Right in the pocket like a North Face price tag |
Make you mad like a fat fuck watching a Nike ad |
Poison ivy puttin' poison in your IV |
Avoid the noise, I can destroy you toys nightly |
Tom Hanks in Big, you got a little boy’s psyche |
Not safe for workflow, shit is unsightly |
The diabolical psychological raps, what type of audio is that? |
Get your body blown jack, methodically I attack |
Smack rappers out their 5 panel hat |
Thunder Cats using all the ammo on the racks |
on the street, no camel back |
I step like the Hulk, all the granite on the planet crack |
I swear, rappers getting fucked up this year |
They’ll wind up with their whole brain cavity clear |
Put the barrel to you ear, last thing you hear |
Is your soul tryna break through the Earth’s atmosphere |
You better bow low, little rodent, scurry through your mouse hole |
Before I rip your soul out your motherfucking mouth hole |
All about doe, turning bitches into Alpo |
The world is on my dick like I stuck it in the South Pole |
Open up my mouth and blow your fucking power out |
Girls on my hot dog similar to sauerkraut |
I’m the type to uppercut all of these Debbie Downers |
Cause I spend many hours studying Kenny Powers |
King of the assholes, trashing his Corvette |
Bank robbers stick you the vanish into a vortex |
Hand over my heart like Napoleon Bonaparte |
I burn you like Joan Of Ark, you bitches get blown apart |
They shook to death when we make the Pharaoh rise |
Look in they eyes, you can see where their terror lies |
Soft niggas petrify when the devil rise |
Open they hearts, you can see when the terror lays |
Run The Green Mile, no sweat, I’m electrified |
Fire in the skies flow, higher than the clouds go |
Scared money, no? |
Put the money where my mouth go |
My dawgs gotta eat, breaking bread like it’s Alpo |
Corny ass nigga stacking bodies in the silo |
If shit didn’t flow, I would throw him where the tide flow |
Rappers gassed up and they fuckin' with a pyro |
Save the small talk, I ain’t social I’m a psycho |
Hold the fuck up |
Who this batti man pass the shotty |
Winchester, military grade, catch a homi |
Anybody have a problem with it, let them try me |
Nobody make a fuckin' move, unless it’s sanctioned by me |
(I'm the fucking boss out here) |
I’ll let my young bol ride on ya |
Waiting on another fucking letter from Andromeda |
Sold out shows from Bogota to Ottawa |
I just copped a YHM ray silencer |
Soul of Nicolino and the mind of a philosopher |
Ima bring the motherfucking drama like an opera |
Have a Siciliana shoot at you like a photographer |
Deadly with the machete, ready for any conqueror |
Hahahahaha |
Army of the Pharaohs! |
Worldwide baby! |
Yeah, Official Pistol! |