Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Warlords, artist - Snowgoons.
Date of issue: 24.02.2022
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Warlords |
Yo Avatar, battle scars connect with the Tree Of Souls |
Let out roar and destroy vehicles |
I kick tanks |
Swallow rockets |
Swat helicopters, kill pilot in cockpit |
UG |
Superhero |
Trained different |
Jog with cars tied to my back, my frame different |
My brain different, move objects with it |
Gun cocked back, blow your brain out of your fitted |
You gotta be kidding, your body be missing |
Cut in fragments |
Harrenhal, I land on your lawn I ride dragons |
Slash men with blades, slice through armor |
Monster, technique Shaolin vs Lama |
Conqueror, we on to, the next planet |
Cause panic, cause damage, vanish |
Into this air, body burst to gasses |
Cyclops, spit flames you turn to ashes |
I can see them coming from afar but you can tell |
They ain’t ready for war |
Stepping over these bodies stuck on shelves |
They ain’t ready for war |
They don’t know that we about to give them hell |
They ain’t ready for war |
Guts |
They ain’t ready for war |
Glory |
They ain’t ready for war |
Victory |
Wondering how the kingdom fell |
They ain’t ready for war |
Revolution up-rise and then rebel |
They ain’t ready for war |
They don’t know we about to give them hell |
They ain’t ready for war |
Guts |
They ain’t ready for war |
Glory |
They ain’t ready for war |
Victory |
Rough with stamina |
Drop the Tropicana propaganda |
The camera caught it but can’t record this |
Off the decibel charts |
Wrestle with sharks |
Rhymes are prologs is Costco impossible |
Pop the skull when it drop then I pop the bull |
Hospital inpatient I’m impatient |
For our terms, stars burn like God armor |
Honor the godfather, the cause compartment |
Was bombarded by Irish car bombings |
The fourth prophet, it’s off topic |
More 'botics |
I sport object that shot out more objects |
Rules of conscious broke down right, whores to congress, hold out, no doubt |
Charles Bronson never sold out |
On the down low we rob like Dow Jones |
Out for calzones like Al Capone, I flip tones out control |
Bound the flow like throw down the road |
Also wind your soul till it erodes until a cloud of smoke |
Think I’m on fire grab the extinguisher |
Administer wi-fi sentence to shatter dreams |
Spirits lift to come drift us |
Sledge hammer bulging blisters on both hands |
Trick diagnostic to catalogue I smash the monologue |
Dialogue finish your killer epilogue, switch the fist up |
Chucked between the four trips of Clash of the Titans |
With both cannons drawn on shitty paper |
The world burn with no chaser, human eraser |
Ego deflated bitch faction and tailor made |
I walk planks rocking a pair of God’s shades |
Taking the day of my death, carry my own chalk |
Investigative reports show that I never been bought |
My dirt is so squeaky clean |
Banging my head on padded walls is so crazy |
It needs to be soul smashing |
Intuition is lacking |
Now how the fuck did you happen? |
Creative Juices, Snowgoons collab we took the planet of madness |
I’ma kick this like when Gods on top of Mt. Olympus |
A lot of bitches try to bond to find a common interest |
But I think that it’s probably best that you should mind your business |
Cause you can get stomped by a whole squad of ninjas |
I show you suckers the wrath of God and I’m not religious |
Select the poem, just wanna be left alone, set the tone, stepping stone |
Creative Juices forever, others attempt to clone |
But even less is known |
Surviving wars with no rules, crush planets to four moons |
Dope tunes by Snowgoons, resurrected from old tombs |
No ammo left |
Show you the full strength of Nano Tech |
Wrap ten fingers around your narrow neck |
Till you can’t breathe |
With ease |
And squeeze |
The flow of the Ganges, Rivers |
Smacking bitches |
I toss soldiers like kids playing with action figures |
Get shot in the face with rapping lyrics |