| My flow cock-d, Des be the meanest
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| Pulsating beams on the gat leave you spleen-less
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| Built right in, you don’t hold iron, you lying
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| But my license to carry stays tucked, why?
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| Don’t let the clean record fool you
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| If they eva found out the dirt I’ve done
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| They’d throw me under the jail
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| And building of the jail won’t talk
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| But instead I’m on your block
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| Twin air brush Glocks claiming all your guap
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| Me and my ace we done took your place
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| Blow the kush in your face while you state your case
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| Disrespectful you know why? |
| We don’t give a fuck
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| We a lil outta pocket but I dare you to brush your luck
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| You betta duck quick cuz the sound of the four/five busting
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| You running got me love sick
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| You dumb shit learn the science to the math
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| Or I let my bitch shake you for an hour & a half
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| They need to set steady beef free let Koosy out the gate
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| We need the Hilltop Hustlers back, the Park Side Killaz
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| Club Fever, the rap we spit bust ya speaker
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| I’m wit the Gods and Generals throwing up ether
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| You in the land of the poets, where every man is a motive
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| A bulldozing the game, not sure if you notice
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| That Q Dominion is pure focus, raw talent
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| We balance the beams evenly and face the challenge
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| We own up to the name, we spit raps spacely
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| Outta this world, gon' whateva rap take me
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| And even if Planetary ain’t the best breathing
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| I leave 'em at loss for words and their chest wheezing
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| You and your man beefing? |
| Let me get on the horn
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| And see how these Voltron niggas will transform
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| We come so deep; |
| man they’ll lower the casket
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| Bury us alive, we look up at the streets cracking
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| (Chorus) Des Devious
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| We still Gods of rap, we still Generals
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| Serial kill the track, we pure criminals
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| Disrespect straight up, fuck subliminals
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| Disconnect your neck, you’re so pitiful
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| Yo, when OS in the building, you need to listen up
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| This ain’t '94, when will you give it up?
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| I ain’t gotta freestyle, I ain’t gotta write graph
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| I’m allowed to like cash, I’m about to write math
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| WHAT!?! |
| Hip-Hop is ova, no roots, no culture
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| Every man fend himself, no troops, no soldiers
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| Yo Planet and Des these niggas straight violating
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| I annihilate 'em; |
| spit it live from the mind of Satan
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| Eyes erasing, scheming on the next move, eating on the best food
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| Creaming wit the fresh jewels, stress you, neva the best, who-eva
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| Pick up a mic, spit precise, your crew severed
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| You got few skills, claiming like you ill, sounding like Dru Hill
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| Get thrown in the slew kill, QD Killadel P H I A
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| 2−1 Pow! |
| We hold it down, we not for games
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| It’s the Gods and Generals, man we back in the building
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| We filling the airwaves wit this shit that you feeling
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| Y’all try to think; |
| I just write it and rap it
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| I hear the track and smash it, yeah it’s time for some action
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| Y’all simulated games, y’all target practice
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| I sit on the globe, niggas ain’t on my atlas
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| God forgive me, Lord have mercy
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| To any mothafucka tryna hurt me
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| Any Label tryna jerk me, I rap on my terms
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| Y’all chill on seed level, I’m deeper then earthworms
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| I’m baiting Satan to a game of chess
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| Ain’t no debating untill I lay to rest
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| Yes, I remain the best
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| Forget talk-to-talk, I scream and shout
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| The dream is about getting that green and large amounts
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| We calling you out, yo I headed up the hill
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| Wit the Lion and the guns that you kicking in my ear fam
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| (Chorus) Des Devious |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Gods and Generals 2 , by - Outerspace. Song from the album God's Fury, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп