Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Raw Is War , by - Panik. Song from the album Vinyl Edition Instrumentals, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 13.11.2003
Record label: Molemen
Song language: English
Raw Is War |
| Yo. |
| It’s Vinnie Paz baby my man Panik on the track! |
| NAMEAN! |
| NAMEAN! |
| I’m bout to take yall to war. |
| Teach yall how to rhyme. |
| Check it out |
| YO YO |
| We heavenly divine, thats why we steadily shine |
| And put a steel mic through a enemy spine |
| My voice got power like if ten of me rhyme |
| And gettin in my face means its weaponry time |
| Look at you, studyin my every design |
| Bangin this, listening to every rhyme |
| Heavy rewind, Vinnie Paz’ll fight vicious |
| Yall easier to fuck with than white bitches |
| We nice with this, yall better stand still |
| Musta forget the fact Hologram ill |
| I doubt yall, Vinnie Paz the outlaw |
| Yall mafuckas is never right like southpaws |
| Thats why I doubt yall, yall ain’t raw |
| Rippin you with a 45 caliber claw! |
| You wanna see the last kid i battled before? |
| Then check his fuckin brain where I splattered the wall |
| Hook (2x): |
| RAW IS WAR! |
| YALL BETTER PRAY FOR ARMAGEDDON! |
| YALL SPILL BLOOD ON SLUGS FROM ALL WEAPONS! |
| VINNIE PAZ! |
| I’M LIKE THE LORD’s RESURRECTION! |
| IT’S ALL ENDING! |
| SO BRING THE GOD WHEN I STEP IN! |
| You’re forced to fight, when I’m scorching the mic |
| My source of light. |
| *holy* like the corpse of Christ |
| You lost your life, and I’m the sorceror right? |
| And Vinnie Paz rhyme have you lost in the light |
| What? |
| yall mafuckas think you flossin tonight? |
| Gimme that! |
| matter of fact, toss me your ice |
| But still, my clique is too ill |
| And yall? |
| yall more bitch than Dru Hill |
| The true skill that come through me |
| Is from banging «All Hell Freeze» by Cool C |
| Yall dont move me, yall at war with the veteran |
| With the digital trigger finger like the letterman |
| The vendetta gram, I know where my heart’s at |
| I’m the better man, so dont start that |
| When we bomb back. |
| BURN FUCKIN LEECHES |
| Send you to hell to see more shells than beaches |
| We elitists, we from Hamburger Hill |
| Science and math combined with supreme skill |
| The team ill, we send you to hell fast |
| Your cream build, you buried in Belfast |
| Ayo Panik! |
| pass me the gin! |
| 'cuz ain’t too much muthafuckers rockin with Vin! |
| Stomp him with tims, 'cuz I heard he hate hell |
| The last thing that he saw? |
| a .38 shell |