Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Angels of Death, artist - Outerspace. Album song Blood And Ashes, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.07.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Angels of Death |
Battling Plan’s a bad plan |
I’m raw like cats from Afghanistan with gats in their hands |
From Philly to Pakistan 'space packin the stands |
You make all fake thugs start acting like Stans |
You’ll never make your move cuz you lackin the fans |
I been illin' since I had a backpack full a cans |
You see life pass by you in the blink of an eye |
Thinkin you fly, we’ll choke you in the sink till you die |
You spit lava rap, so holla back if need be |
You’ll burn if you step, believe me, come see me |
I’ll make you see moons in the break of day |
And make sure that your body slowly starts to decay |
It’s gruesome, I had to add my two cents |
The next movement in rap guess who’s sent |
Outerpsace nigga, and we demand we eat |
And if not we gonna leave a bloodbath in the street nigga |
They asked me, concerning the spoils of war |
Such spoils are the disposal of God and the apostles |
So fear God, and keep straight the relations between yourselves |
Obey God and his apostles if ye do believe |
I’m so confused, take the world away |
I’m a maniac, you need to watch who you war with |
You in the land of stars when the block is enormous |
Squash rocks with my hands, my palms is enormous |
Flow the hot lava that I drop when I scorch it |
Droppin candy rappers that get chopped up and snorted |
Newborn kids they get chopped up, aborted |
Planet warchild, when we pop up report it |
Committin riot acts so we constantly torch it |
Illest Puerto-Rock this whole process is morbid |
Equipped with slaughter blocks, you get the picture-a portrait |
If it ain’t monetary, what’s your reason for touring |
All that shit you pop, to be honest it’s boring |
Been rockin the mic since before it turned corporate |
You need to sit back and let your conscience absorb this |
Before you ship that demo to them dudes in the office |
Come test your skills for real in hell’s fortress |
I saw four angels standing at the four corners of the earth |
Holding the four winds of the earth, so that no wind would blow on the earth |
Or on the sea, or on any tree |
I saw another angel ascend from the sunrise |
Having the seal of the living god |
He cried with a loud voice to the four angels |
I’m so confused |
To whom it was given to harm the earth and the sea |
Immortal Technique, I live life strangling death |
I walk through the land where the fallen angel is kept |
But I will never bow down to a Pagan habit |
Like Roman gods that were faggots named after the planets |
The connotations of Revelation taken for granted |
Mark of the beast, government microchips implanted |
I’ll be branded a maniac for speaking the truth |
And I’ll be murdered as soon as I hit the street with the proof |
Illuminati trying to raise the devil at any cost |
They probably cloned Jesus with the blood off of the cross |
And I know that it’s the same mother fuckers I see |
That genetically engineered HIV |
Controlling the population according to mathematics |
Generated by Masons and the military industry |
Sponsoring terror, creatin the profit margin that’ll last forever |
The crusades and Vietnam sand-blasted together |
And you believe in «whatever», even a Federal promise |
But the spawn of Shaytan could never be honest |
And poor people pay homage and pray to a god |
That the Vatican themselves don’t really believe in |
Cuz they’d rather worship money and the physical demons |
Without biblical reason I execute em for treason |
I don’t need an alibi, cuz my place in history is the book of Malachi |
Motherfucker |
Immortal Technique; |
Harlem, New York and North Philly |
The Angels of Death are here you motherfucker |
We’ll turn your cities to salt, nigga |
Y’all ain’t shit, and none of your peoples are shit |
None of your children are shit |
You’ll all be dead tomorrow, you fake motherfuckers |
What?! |