| Yeah!
|
| Blitz, Incorporated, nigga, we comin' to get y’all niggas
|
| Uh! |
| Army of the Pharaohs
|
| Check it out, yo…
|
| Best believe, we roll up on your squad like a blitzkrieg
|
| Better get your man, or would you rather see him bleed?
|
| We here now, we ain’t got time to wait
|
| Make no mistake, real niggas challenge their fate
|
| Yeah… yeah this is war, cousin; |
| I cock the hammer and kill
|
| It’s Vinnie Pazienza outta Hamburger Hill
|
| You ramblin' still? |
| We scramblin' still
|
| If the beast doesn’t get you, then the ambulance will
|
| So hand me your steel… I fire iron when
|
| I find a faggot caught in the spell of Leviathan
|
| I keep my eye on him… cause he a bastard
|
| Sever the head of the gator in Lake Placid
|
| You motherfuckers is blind, you need glasses
|
| I seen how the game changed, I adapted
|
| I seen how your dame changed to my madness
|
| I seen how your brain maimed by my axes
|
| But you a fascist… and y’all thugs
|
| You as genuine as a mother-in-law's hug
|
| We the veterans that’ll be sendin' y’all slugs
|
| But we gentlemen, so tell 'em it’s all love
|
| Yeah, yo… yo I’m demented, nigga; |
| be prepared for what you facin'
|
| The mind of God and Satan combined with domination
|
| I’m the rawest, roughest, toughest thing you ever heard of
|
| In my studio session, blessin', MC’s be gettin' murdered
|
| I’m one of a kind, puttin' one up in your fuckin' spine
|
| When I get to shine, believe it’s through the grind
|
| Damn right, we cocky; |
| I feel no one can rock with us
|
| I bless a mic religous on track, I’m spittin' ignorant
|
| Somethin' you’ve never heard, dynamic with every word
|
| Gigantic with every slur, most stagnant with every herb, yo
|
| But more polluted, this beat’s therapeutic solution
|
| My distribution sentence rappers into execution
|
| Death row, Syze got the best flow
|
| Y’all lazy motherfuckers talkin' 'bout «Leeet's blow!»
|
| All of us; |
| Q-D plus
|
| Yeah, we goin' right by you like an off-duty bus, nigga
|
| Aiyyo my words murder sets, I’ll blitzkrieg your league like a German vet
|
| Bull’s eye, slash through your turtleneck
|
| And bones to pick, hit two hundred and six
|
| I’m runin' with cliques that’ll hit you like a ton of bricks
|
| Straight put you in a ditch like a mob-related death
|
| I’ll take it to your chest, make a mess of your flesh
|
| My paragraphs breed hate
|
| I was sent to Heaven, resurrected with a clean slate, now I sleep late
|
| Men in each state dead from this
|
| The Esoterrorist, a real motherfucker like Oedipus
|
| Your patheticness is why… you motherfuckers touch the mic and die
|
| Guilty is the plea, King Syze the co-D
|
| They won’t let us go free… Bloodthirsty killers
|
| Psychological thriller, beatin' my chest like gorillas
|
| We got the city on smash, y’all pity’s just trash
|
| While you small-timers finishin' last |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Blitz Inc. , by - King Syze. Song from the album The Essential Collabo Collection Vol. 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп