
Date of issue: 25.02.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Fat Beats, Uncle Howie
Song language: English
Forty Deuce Hebrew |
The truth has been cast aside |
We’ve been duped into a vast mirage |
I’m a cross between Master Fard and a astronaut |
Murderous appetites, war games with transit cops |
Virginal sacrifice coronate Satanic Gods |
Father of abomination like Manson’s pops |
Blood ceremony, homie, make sure the dagger’s sharp |
Crocodile briefcase, exchange cash with sharks |
Diamonds and golden guns, smashing you with hands of bronze |
Rather calm with the cameras on |
Trapped between Tetragrammaton and Babylon |
I’m a thousand horsepower when the Magnum bomb |
With more than enough fire power to splatter y’all |
It was a shootout at the Grimy Awards |
I spent ninety in court |
Attempted murder and a prior assault |
Beat the case, rolled the dice and I walked |
Like a forty deuce Hebrew, play the corner with a mic when I talk |
The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon |
Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in |
Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive |
I slap-box with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph |
From gutter to glory, another young hustler’s story |
Learn from the mistakes of my uncles that done it before me |
Blitz out with razors, death, horror, leave children crying |
Skitz out like Slayer’s Felt Forum seat cushion riot |
Young shooters bring a pistol full |
Caught up in their crucifixion rituals |
While worshiping Lucifer habitual |
The streets raised me, I’m from Brooklyn like Jordan or Jay-Z |
To be where I’m from is a great thing |
While y’all daydream I make things happen |
Get things clapping, spray things laughing |
Eighteen I stopped taking acid, |
But it left a stain on my brain that remain massive |
Thoughts of perceptional open till they lay me in a casket |
Until I stop making murder rap |
Because the Bible was written by those who were convinced that the Earth is flat |
And I’ll be dead before this war stops |
Praying at the altar of the war Gods |
L’Amours Rocks! |
(Hook x4) |
Yes, you bring some praises to the king of kings |
And the lord of law is pumping my new frap of luna |
He looked to, I’m bringing my Moscone and I’m like me welcome Also… |
I’ve got a mind out of my mind |
Oh I been up so once you love |
Either Moscone, boy that’s your low |
Boy let us do what she like |
Jerusalem |
Il al alum, asrahum |
Jehovia alam |
Slash ey lovey |
Steve link some praises too, to the king of kings |
I’m the prophet lovay, I got out it |
Of the almighty twelve tribes of Israeli |
And the only holy god of Israel and also everywhere |
With the purple drink |
And the supernatural beings |
Super-naturalistic kings and queens, yeah |
With the purple drink |
And the supernatural beings |
In the burning bright |
At the shining light |
The will to chill with ILL Bill… |
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