Lyrics Judas - The Alchemist, Westside Gunn, Conway

Judas

«Take a walk»
«I gotta change the rear»
«I said fuck off!»
Ayo
Ayo
Fuck these niggas yo
Ayo
Three shots left his stomach out
Dome-ass nigga, these ain’t coming out
Niggas tying rope around your fam yo
With shooters so high the nigga won’t land yo
Wrist a hundred grand yo
All gold stove every wall got a Van Gogh
Whipped the work, so incredible
Fiend got the pack bit it open like its edible Lord
SB skater on a hater
Phantom on Fairfax, they thought I was a Laker
Don’t get embarrassed by the merits
Murals of Paris, I ain’t never been to Paris
Murals of Phoenix, I ain’t never been to Phoenix
Tom Ford suits of Bobby «The Brain"Heenan
Boston crab, the whole slab
Before I go broke, I’ll get the mac and the mask
Over the baby crib, my nigga where the stash at
My man killed his family, killed himself and smoked a bad batch
This margiela on Mad Max
Purge a bitch, titties look fake plus ass fat
Niggas doubted, now they pay homage
New deal with money to send my kids' kids' to college
Ayo, do the knowledge
Ayo, peace to Knxwledge
You niggas garbage
Fuck y’all niggas yo
Fenway monster shit for me and my conglomerates
I heard a lot of niggas spot, but nobody that’s dominant
Nobody that’s consistent and that’s obvious
The music speak for itself, and plus I got murals in other continents
Most of these rap niggas living in they momma’s shit
They pushing forty and broke, the safety on the 40 is broke
I blic until you lose consciousness
A high school dropout spitting like I got a doctorate
Degree, I’m what’s popping bitch you opposite to me
2016 nobody dropping hotter shit than me
You see I dotted my «i"'s and now I got it to a tee
My goons love me so much, they wanna body shit for free
Like, fuck the bag they don’t need it
They just wanna squeeze and leave you deceased, at least a paraplegic
Hit in my head and walked the 'spital, please believe it
Like three days later, now they’re comparing me to Jesus
I walked on water, nigga I made the blind see
Turned water to champagne, twelve shooters behind me
Those my disciples, all me verses on a God-level, nigga
You should find those in the bible
I don’t think no rapper can fuck with me
Nigga feel different, tell him to get in touch with me
Rap shit, street shit, come and see what’s up with me
Filled with brown sticks just to air out your fuckery