Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Godz in the Front, artist - Styles of Beyond. Album song Reseda Beach, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 21.10.2012
Record label: Tokyo Sex Whale
Song language: English
Godz in the Front |
Champion hoods that I rock, new Nikes out the box |
Will attract your little chick then lock it down |
All the Demigodz shit sound |
Hardcore |
Reloadin' my .44 like «click» |
Box cutter slicin' open your six pack |
Demigodz attack, motherfucker better start fallin' back |
Aight |
Cause I’m the king of Nike flights |
I got more boxes stacked then a warehouse |
Two pairs, one on ice |
I won’t even wear out |
Go head and talk greezy and you’ll find yourself Aired out |
I box with the force that can knock grizzly bears out |
Prepare for warfare, fuck fightin' fair ones |
Feels like I shot you in the face with a flare gun |
The heat when I speak and the temperature of my tongue |
Will make you swear to god that I’m the emperor of the sun |
A next level hustler that shouldn’t be slept upon |
Fuck crack! |
I sell Energon to Deceptions |
Swamp H, have Megatron on methadone |
Apathy is a god in the rap upper echelon |
Assassination theme music, raps to die to |
Cock back and blast before I pass to Ryu |
I be that insane cracker from the D.G.Z.s |
I need liquor and two packs of G.P.C.s |
Now that’s sicker |
Rats if you don’t like it then fuck you |
My clans deep, steppin' out my jeep in my truck jewels |
(Beep beep) |
The killin' is a part of my job |
Ayo RZA, good lookin' on that sixteen god |
You gotta figure I’m the cream of the crop |
The demon in Pac |
I leave 'em butt naked, make 'em eat the beam of the Glock |
You wanna see the M.P. |
pop? |
Give me a reason, guarantee that after beefin' with me they turn vegan |
What the fuck you gonna do? |
Come and see Ryu |
I’m like a sniper |
Sittin' on Machine Shop’s roof |
S.O.B. |
style |
Demigodz hold me down |
So keep my fuckin' name out your mouth |
I leave the mics in body bags |
With the same effect tsunami’s have |
And uplift the rep that Gotti had |
And I’m the reason why your seeds is probably mad |
Cause they caught me squeezin' my thing up in they mommy’s ass |
It’s Motive bitch |
And yes I’m the bad man |
I spit so sick, they say I need a cat scan |
A Demigod assassin by cash fam |
Kilo mode but still grind up bad grams |
The Doe Raker that’s well known so tell home |
I’m more to sea with my chrome more than cell phones |
And I ain’t here to teach no kids, I’m just rhymin' |
I have you son wildin' like them kids in Blood Diamond |
Fuckin' with Mo clutchin' the heat, flippin' cane |
I keep the streets full of snow like a blizzard came |
Slammin' a hype as verse till your bones snap |
I ransack dead in the track and domes crack |
Rap assassin, blastin', y’all should fasten seat belts |
You crab ass rappers I’m rebuilt |
I’m hot |
Top notch, man fuck the pot shots |
We got a leg up on the competition like hopscotch |
I’m nice |
I’m sayin' it twice |
I repeat like a pen |
I breed another eight MCs approachin' me |
I disrespect, slash your neck, cash your check |
It’s how I bought my fat ass Lex |
So clear the way |
It’s Shay, dawg open the gate |
Peace, I’m out |
Jettin' like I’m dealin' out of state |
You’re gettin' stripped for your spot of your game |
You can’t stop me, you can only try to contain |
I’m outta your range |
That white widow got me thinkin' I’m on top a blade |
No deal so I still keep stockin' the cane |
I only recognize your girl from the top of her brain |
She loves the taste so much she even swallows the stains |
Don’t be surprised if you fuck her and she callin' my name |
My flow is insane, I’m headed to the hall of the fame |
I’m chargin' the game for all the long studio nights |
Time is money I need back a billion tonight |
Stay up in booths threatening rappers and killin' the mics |
I love goin' overseas but I ain’t feelin' the flights |
So I’m tryin' to get a private jet |
Demigodz, we the livest set since hi-fi cassettes |
Ain’t a damn thing change boy |
+Protect Ya Neck+ |
I’ll have machete swingin' at where you head connect |
Motherfucker |
«Keep my fuckin' name out your mouth» |
Are you a warrior? |
Killer? |
Slicin' shit like a kamikaze ninja |
Go where I’ve been and you’ll find bodies injured |
Call the ambulance, the A.T.F., the Ghost Busters |
This is fast food, your last meal is a slow supper |
I’m Dan Aykroyd, Sigmund Freud |
Bill Murray, that spit dirty at your derby make you act 'noid |
You only half boy, half child |
Boom, bang BLOAW! |
Demigodz be like, «All in together now» |
I get funky fresh |
Watch me boil and flambe |
Turn your favorite rapper to ham glaze |
(Hey!) |
Uncle Ben fucked Betty Crocker but it get’s worse |
I fucked Mrs. Butterworth on a covered perch and kicked a gutter verse |
For every hardcore connaisseur |
Studio got mushroom stacks we got bombs galore |
Celph Titled the grand daddy grenade man |
Sellin' all my bottled up anger at lemonade stands |
My clan is thick like plaster |
Bust ya |
Blast ya |
Kill 'em in their tracks like a buff black gorilla |
Styles pumped off of skrilla |
Feel us |
You’ll lose your? |
cause they gave us a banger from Dilla |
I came down with fat gats, then unload and lick a shot |
I blow the backs of city cops like bloaw |
Now it’s all over |
Punks seein' pink hearts, eatin' schrooms through a straw with King Cobra |
«Hood on the right, wild for the night» — GZA 'Clan In Da Front' |