Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Godzilla, artist - Army of the Pharaohs. Date of issue: 29.10.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Godzilla |
| What I write in a verse is like magic tricks, Copperfield |
| Grab your chick, cop a feel |
| Cock the Glock for real, give you some cop appeal |
| Dynamite vest, na I ain’t stressing nothing |
| With a smiley face sticker on my detonator button |
| Haters ask, «Is he bluffing or is he bugging?» |
| I don’t know but I don’t fuck with weed with the seed stuffing |
| What I blaze gets me oh so higher |
| Burn more white widow smoke than an old folks home on fire |
| I make change cha ching |
| I can hang a playground from a charm you should see the way my chain swings |
| You got the balls to diss? |
| Won’t have 'em afterwards |
| 'Cause when I rap, contenders get killed, after all my words |
| I’m tired of all you rapping nerds trying to critique my shit |
| Like I ain’t the motherfucking master of the baddest verbs |
| Celph Titled and the AOTP alliance will travel back in time |
| Smack ya, have your baby teeth flying |
| I am Rob Zombie, I am the Omni of dishonesty |
| I’m a prodigy, an atrocity |
| Not a lot of promise in me |
| Positively not a drop of modesty |
| My philosophy is the policy |
| I believe in nothing |
| Try teaching a beast peace and loving |
| Juggling, my beliefs need readjusting |
| My life was sticks and rocks |
| Kick, punch, block |
| It was not a box of butterscotch and shuttlecocks |
| I have filled a pot of mud, spilled a lot of blood |
| Watch the drops drip and flood, hit the top stud |
| I have crashed a lot of waves, dug a lot of graves |
| Drunk a lot of grapes, I have fucked a lot of babes |
| I’m do not disturb, I have punched a lot of nerds |
| Struck a lot of curbs, I have cut a lot of curves |
| You are none of the above, push come to shove |
| You’re all mother fucking puppy lovin' country clubs |
| Y’all motherfuckers ain’t running shit, y’all simply runaways |
| I walk the surface of the sun while you’re rocking stunner shades |
| I’m in Hell shoving flames while you’re sweating summer days |
| I’m the son of Satan, son of Sam, sicker some’ll say |
| Got a flow so cold that I could blow the sun away |
| Even if I kick a free someone still gonna pay |
| You could get blasted, body in a funeral casket |
| And cops searching for deoxyribonucleic acid |
| Slay the fascists, Pharaoh fans pray for classics |
| Come through in Raiders jackets to make this magic |
| I’m a holy man, Voodoo priest, rebel that’ll shoot police |
| You wake up from this nightmare and change your little doodoo sheets |
| Skeleton, crusher creature from the cryo-chamber |
| The naughty, nasty, trashy microphone annihilator |
| It’s AP apparently you motherfuckers missed me |
| Some dude tried to diss me, now that kid’s history |
| Now this is a misery, I heard it needs company |
| Who the fuck else want to bleed in their Dungarees? |
| Planetary man, the evil rap Desert Eagle |
| Clap all your people get ready for the sequel |
| Needle set to vinyl, now it’s time for your final thought |
| What’s your last wish? |
| You’s a minor fine in court |
| Twenty five to life, rap electric chair |
| Spit a sicker syllable, nigga slash like the slayers hit you |
| Get the picture, this a Kodak moment |
| Mo 'Yak flowin', pussy, bet your throwback on it |
| I’mma break bread only if the bread ain’t stale |
| Take young niggas to school, I heard school like jail |
| This is punishment government shit that you fucking with |
| Esoteric, I told him in «Swords Drawn» and «Dump the Clip» |
| Hear the «Battle Cry» piling up the dead solders |
| Know to «Tear it Down», we get it down, the blood runs colder |
| After drive-by, hop out the wheel like caged hamsters |
| Rage amped up, hammer time without the stage dancers |
| I really doubt we’re killing it the same |
| I’m Magic before retirement, illest in the game |
| Diligently aim at targets without the Pizza Hut express shit |
| Put 'em in a long box like bread sticks |
| Then dip marinara or garlic, Marijuanacaholic |
| Carry arms like your sidekick, shoulder hold to drop kick |
| Your show’s supposed to be mosh pits; |
| it’s only known for obnoxious |
| Knowingly holding most of them hostage |
| Know I’m close to the top ten, Coka Nostra and Rakim |
| Roast the most of the Pac shit |
| Overdose for the profit |
| Hold him over don’t drop him, watch this |
| Nonsense and don’t slow up the process |
| Hate on my project, lay you unconscious |
| Screaming on the phone like you won a radio contest |
| The only fucking thing I love is my long knife |
| The .45 cal click pow, put you on ice |
| Before the devil know you dead you should call Christ |
| All I hear is barking out of y’all, a real dog bites |
| If you wanna split the tribe you should call Phife |
| I’m the real father of creation of God’s life |
| LeBron in the beginning of the game, yeah I toss white |
| Calm at the beginning of the pain, Dalai Lam-like |
| Then I put your fucking brain in a strong vice |
| Eat your liver over fava beans and some warm rice |
| Y’all motherfuckers head cracked like I toss dice |
| Vinnie taking all your money like a divorced wife |