Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The God Supreme, artist - Jedi Mind Tricks. Album song The Thief and the Fallen, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 01.06.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Enemy Soil
Song language: English
The God Supreme |
I feel sorry for your mom motherfucker, you a waste |
When I say that you’re my dog, I mean a muzzle in your face |
The streets and the dean have me struggling with faith |
The guns mad big like Mutombo on the waist |
I’m a a gorilla God, jungle is my habitat |
Murder many infidel, Yasser Arafat |
How you wanna talk shit and tuck your chain after that |
Infrared beam green aim it where your cabbage at |
Dirty money lord you can check the back plate |
Run up on his ras clot, show him how the gat tastes |
It’s a million motherfuckers in the rat race |
I ain’t part of that god, y’all can get the gas face |
Fuck all fakes, see you at Allah gates |
All my dogs gonna swarm on you like raw steaks |
Pies and jumbs, I’mma let 'em all bake |
And Vinnie he in rapping good hands like Allstate |
It’s the storm without the calm, a pistol in my palm |
It’s the blood being drawn from your body on this song |
It’s the life that I’m living, no fucks that I’m giving |
It’s a murder scene, tell the fucking ambulance to get 'em |
I’m always trying to break bread |
Always trying to take the fucking crown so I can take heads |
Underground rappers, more bummier than bass heads |
Head-shots leave y’all Planet of the Apes dead |
Jeff Chandler, I’mma let them hands fly |
Just in case Vinnie keep shooters on standby |
Anybody told you any different it’s a damn lie |
You ain’t really beef, real beef get pan-fried |
I be in Japan high, y’all be on some stupid shit |
Philly streets, motherfuckers cross you like a crucifix |
It’s Allah, I’mma be alive like Busilvex |
Four pound, break your chest up like Mucinex |
Dead cause I said so, I’mma let the TEC blow |
Fiends lined up like an Air Jordan retro |
Ill from the get-go, I just caught a homi |
The bullets pierce kevlar, hotter than wasabi |
It’s the storm without the calm, a pistol in my palm |
It’s the blood being drawn from your body on this song |
It’s the life that I’m living, no fucks that I’m giving |
It’s a murder scene, tell the fucking ambulance to get 'em |
Official Pistol Gang |