Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Drenched in Blood, artist - Army of the Pharaohs. Date of issue: 29.10.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Drenched in Blood |
| I can’t imagine me slacking, it’s like a nigga stepping |
| And slapping me right in the face but nigga it never happen |
| I spit the Passion of Christ, the crucifixion’s my weapon |
| I take the shield from the knight and stick it through your intestines |
| And that’s just in day’s work |
| My motivation killing sincerely taken from day’s hurt |
| I spray earth with the venomous mind spray |
| It’s a hard knock life before Jay left Beyonce |
| All-white green leather Diamante |
| Windows tinted, y’all sit timid acting Kanye |
| You so stranje I’m throwing boomerangs at your foolish gang |
| Overruled… |
| Motherfucker you a faggot, you kiss niggas like Lil' Wayne |
| I’m Kool G in his prime, you niggas rapping like Lil' Zane |
| I don’t two-step, nigga I move wet |
| Cocaine, ecstasy and carry two jets |
| Now if it wasn’t for my seed I wouldn’t need my life |
| Give me a hoodie and the mask, I don’t need the ice |
| I keep verses in my head, I don’t need to write |
| Left hook split your shit open, I don’t need a knife |
| I’m on my hate shit, AK shit |
| Step on my shoes, I shoot you in the face bitch |
| So what the fuck is up? |
| You niggas fucking up |
| When Vinnie swing on you I swing on you nigga I fuck you up |
| They all mistaking kindness for weakness |
| They all bitches spineless and speechless |
| Work all week and you poor by the weekend |
| Jerks wanna creep try to choke you while you sleeping |
| All cause we spit raw, no if there’s a leak and |
| Everybody quick draw, we know when you reaching |
| Niggas done fucked up, they woke up a demon |
| OT possessing having spoke to a deacon |
| Hypocrite kids keep a hold on the preaching |
| Please don’t get split, they don’t know what’s the reason |
| Philly’s like Hell but it’s cold and it’s freezing |
| 24/7 no matter what the season |
| Yeah put me in the booth surrounded by music |
| I let my lips go man like I don’t give two shits |
| You Internet motherfuckers wish y’all was me |
| On the road with the Army rolling with QD |
| While we be touring y’all be at work whoring |
| Begging for overtime, «Please can I get some more?» |
| Been there, done that, matter fact still doing it |
| Took some time but we running with this music shit |
| Say my name man and I’ll show up |
| Hit a nigga in the gut till his ass blow up |
| And I still speak power with the force of an anvil |
| I spit gutter words fill another landfill |
| I murder anyone who fuck with the villain, it’s over |
| You ain’t American Gangster cause you chilling with Hova |
| I got a motherfucking chip and it’s still in my shoulder |
| I dump the motherfucking clip in your grill and I fold you |
| You ain’t even in my league and on Vinnie dick |
| I’m eating calamari and capocoolo with my ginny clique |
| I’m a Sicilian mastiff, you a mini pit |
| Eleven Mac 11, nine 9s, on that Biggie shit |
| I hug the block with Jay and Moss where that rocko was sold |
| I carry four burners like the top of a stove |
| 2012 when y’all burn, that’s what prophecy’s told |
| I don’t give a fuck, I ain’t expect to see thirty years old |