Lyrics Camouflage Dons - Statik Selektah, Smif-N-Wessun, Flatbush Zombies

Camouflage Dons

My barrel lean like thorazine
Like Reverend King, cream like
Cartel spark reel, y’all in the mezzanine
Women at the shot ball, shot ball, guillotine
A hundred on the dot balls, black on the big machine
Blowing at your entourage, old squad, wolverines
Camouflage dons, spit hella steam, prophesize, picking out the lies
Gotta get the green
Backs in my nap sack, roll up a swisher, sweet, light a splif, life’s a bitch
Freaking off with the team, off the shit I’ve seen, probably should be dead now
Fuck the zombies, smoke the bong, it’s weed to the head now
It’s the semi-auto going through your audio
My name is pressure and leave you in the poorest mode
Known movements, it’s reality music, the gun law is: if you got one,
you better use it
Listen, they pit convoes, see your way out before D jump over E
And if you want by the cheek so play silly, feel a 9 milly
Acting like you 'bout this life beef for really
Face fighting, wanna steal, y’all niggas kill me
Deer gang, 215, it’s Gucci Philly, it’s Louis Loaf with the smoke that beats
that
Camouflage dons, zombies, static select
We present shots, we blowing off limbs
No sublimes, don’t get it twisted, we knock them
It’s a new wave, NWA, trick it how you want it, and it’s all I got to say
The fame ain’t changed me, I still don’t fuck with you, niggas
I still be on the streets, I still scream fuck religion
I ain’t scared of beef, get beacon, put on a skillet
You bigots are non-existent so fuck all my competition, hold up
Hoes haze, no competition, your mortal vision is sacrilegious
Painting vivid pictures, smoking with the same niggas
It’s Montana flow, whiter than the white cops that shot the kid on my block
I’m from a place where we rolling, we take it
Blow teeth, two foes, trap it in the basement
Two freaks, one me, it’s threesomes in the AM
Take a whiff, fold shit, four blunts in one bash
Bodies in the basement, homicide cases?
Prophesize about multiplying pot like we makers
Hater, you ain’t on like the Lakers
I know I’m wrong but we don’t go, got this slave shit
Smith & Weston, one bullet, your pick
Third lid, I be putting it in your bitch
Robbing like life after death, had a fourth disk
Rhyme like all eyes on me times four shit
Park place, sheet pins, smoking at the ball games
Scot bucks up top only when the Knicks play
Sniffing with some fun, OG and a swish play
Before you cross the day, motherfucker, look both ways
Motherfucker, look both ways
Motherfucker, look both ways
Camouflage dons, camouflage dons