Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song G.O.R. (Gods of Rap), artist - Natti. Date of issue: 23.09.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
G.O.R. (Gods of Rap) |
| Wolves, nigga |
| That’s right |
| Yeah |
| For you! |
| Rappers ain’t rapping ‘bout life, they got a movie feel |
| Fuck a rap contract give ‘em a movie deal |
| See I just look ‘em up and down like «will you be real?» |
| I’m here to shine a little light on ‘em like a movie reel |
| I’m sick of seeing people stuck on the same shit |
| This life is a bitch yo, we suck on the same tit |
| These rappers ain’t legit I can’t fuck with this lame shit |
| The truth is me and you we fucking the same chick, nigga |
| This ain’t rap, it’s the Shrine of the Black Madonna |
| In fact it’s the attack of nine black piranha |
| A single line separates the mind from Dhammapada |
| I just focus on the breath and my spine, that’s Pranayama |
| You keep your eye out for those who seem deranged |
| ‘Cause some are out for blood you just can’t see the fangs |
| I pop in the Glock clip and let freedom ring |
| Even Jesus had a gang (bang!) — auf wiedersehen |
| Before the gods |
| Only one who stands before the gods |
| Yo, you fucking with a great deal of anger, beyond entertainment |
| I had my share of shootouts, holding the stainless |
| Couldn’t sleep, kept my ear to the streets, but I was faceless |
| Snake niggas put the cops onto me, just out of hatred |
| Had to mold my grind, expose the nod, never froze aside |
| The one moment will rise where altercations |
| Staying drunk most the time was a sign of aggravation |
| What was a light always a lie they started faking |
| So I immortalize my shine, and went for the take and the drop |
| Was so extreme I thought I’d die, but I made it |
| I was on something, blood pumping felt it all in my stomach |
| Flooded with hundreds, dice games, I was scrapin' |
| Life’s kind of dangerous it takes it turns, but it has it’s angles |
| Nine in the clip, one in the chamber |
| The God Vegas fought call to nature, broke the arms of Satan |
| You’d rather die for a reputation |
| I’m killing time in the House of David |
| Building the shrine from the mouse and paper |
| Counting dimes is my flock of ravens |
| All aligned in they proper places |
| Gabbana frames, six Glocks in they name with the diamond bracelet |
| I hear y’all rapping at me, I hear y’all trapping happy |
| Offer me tides of candy rides and booty clapping |
| Offer my altar your sickest Js and Gucci shades |
| I leave you nothing but residue and razor blades |
| Now take your fiction bricks and break them down to zones |
| This is a game of thrones played to the skull and bones |
| Rulers with no subjects rapping about fly shit |
| In the scale of my creations what’s smaller than fly shit |
| But y’all don’t seem to get it, or want to understand |
| Until a Titan is smiting with an open hand |
| A hair away from igniting you where you fucking stand |
| If my mind was an ocean you’d be a grain of sand |
| You the choice of the block, you the voice of the hood |
| But when you choose to use your voice good |
| You’re an abomination, I make a proclamation |
| You live for whips and chains then be a dominatrix |