
Date of issue: 01.12.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Henry the 8th |
Yeah… it's murders… plenty murders |
Blood… We spell doom |
Pharaoh clique, baby |
For whom the bells toll, Vinnie Paz, I call hell home |
Put the ratchet to the side of your face like a cell phone |
Any way you wanna look at it, it spell doom |
Vinnie Pazienza be proud that you you fell to him |
Me and Shareef, we stronger than pillars in Greece |
You need to over-stand that pharaohs are still in the streets |
You need to know that we got beef but we willin' to peace |
You need to know that we got hate and it’s still for police |
It’s Juju Mob, and Army of the Pharaoh clique |
We on some revolution Amadou Diallo shit |
I like to watch your brain explodin' when the hollow hit |
It’s Vinnie Paz, Louie Dogs, Kamachi follow it |
Yo its my house like RUN! |
controllin the 80's |
Flow very crazy like I spit the blood of Rosemary’s baby |
Slang fire like a hustle in Haiti |
Couple holes for the souls, pitchfork for the daisies |
Ashes for urns, I’m a murderer maybe |
A lavish little Lucifer burnin' the hazy |
Faced out, still could get a hold of the ladies |
Hit from Madam Bavaskier in a older Mercedes |
This is death speakin', the smell of fresh flesh wreakin' |
Get a funeral organ and the best dressed deacon |
Juju tongue, voodoo come, eye of the pharaohs |
Blood pour, heart of a chump, jump from the arrows |
We got a message for ya |
Yeah, our squads ain’t checkin' for ya |
And if its beef, we’ll produce the Smith and Wesson’s on ya |
AOTP, Juju Mob, we bossin' ya clique |
Rain fire on this hip hop shit |
The king Reef raw, on the streets I’m King Cauze |
Wild the fuck out, beat my chest like King Kong |
Is this thing on? |
I’m tryin' to channel the youth |
I rock the crown of Caesar, and Hannibal’s boots |
They call me animal tooth |
Use your bones as a back scratcher |
I’m allergic to dirt weed and wack rappers |
My hand’s too gritty, I just let the gat smack ya |
I dropped outta school, motherfuck a backpacker |
Double cross us and we’ll bomb on you bitches |
You a fuckin' fruitcake like what my aunt sent for Christmas |
My dogs relentless and we ain’t tryin' to be friends |
My gun attach to my hip like a siamese twin |
It’s a critical beatdown, QD niggas hit the street now |
Bangin beats out, thug niggas throw they heaters out |
It’s pussy niggas like y’all scared to leave the house |
Once they retrieve 'em out, (BLAAT) |
Let 'em see the clouds |
I make the most gangsta nigga hit the concrete |
And start snitchin', pointin' fingers like they on Wall Street |
My squad deep, we the «Gods and Generals» |
Type of niggas too drunk, we dodge the interviews |
We came a long way from cipherin' all day |
When days was all play, now we rhymin' for strong pay |
Outerspace got a strong hold on the game |
We reign, you minor leaguers, we breezin' the Hall of Fame |
Artist lyrics: Vinnie Paz
Artist lyrics: Chief Kamachi
Artist lyrics: Reef The Lost Cauze
Artist lyrics: Planetary
Artist lyrics: Army of the Pharaohs