Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Omega, artist - AZ. Album song Final Call, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 10.11.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Quiet Money Direct
Song language: English
Omega |
I am one of the flyest my crew is like the Al Qaeda’s |
We war like in them mess halls of Elmyra |
Bodies get caught predicate’s bails is higher |
Why talk if you ain’t walk through hell’s fire |
All-nighters upscale attire |
In car get new cars you and your mans admire |
Young messiah back bottom guns for hire |
I am that what them rap contracts require |
Ghostwriter coast to coast cyphers |
I do this for them grown men in diapers that don’t like us |
Though still the nicest sending kites to Riker’s is priceless |
Reminiscing on plaza fights with Cypress |
Hung lifeless sprung from financial crisis |
Never ran I stand amongst the righteous |
AZ-Q dark denimy V suits |
His arson is lethal only pardon his people so |
Just ask it open or closed casket |
Coke or the dope bastard I’m back on that old Shaft shit |
Got my ratchets army fatigue jacket |
Fitted cap on backwards with them cats from Flatbush |
Bravehearted fuck if they say squash it |
We remain the largest we invade regardless |
Trains to Spofford insane with a brain from Hartford |
It’s hard to explain my artwork |
One for the haters two for the true and the raiders |
I know dudes who eat your food with a razor |
It’s major barbaric |
Brutal behavior car addict I talk about the jewelry later |
My respect is for the CL cartel connects |
And the crews that came through and left arise well effect |
Finesse big boys only play with the best |
It’s no regrets being dead broke and raised in the jects |
I’m a vet cousin Comstock calling collect |
Saying he just left the box hot annoyed and depressed |
Claimin he stressed did a 3 and still facin a stretch |
I’m like look this ain’t the row and you ain’t waiting your death |
So save your breath tie your boots up and bang with the rest |
Cause in reality they just incarcerated your flesh |
You know the deal I pray they process your appeal |
Cause on the real I still got my hands on the wheel |
And I’m a drive til the gas run out |
Either crash or a wrap til a smash come out |
We them real niggaz |
It don’t get no more gangster than this… rap it up daddy… yea |