| It’s not a possibility you could ever survive
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| That’s just the logicality of the Devil inside
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| Any ounce of goodness in me was never revived
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| Disconnected or completely connected with God
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| The hell-hound spellbound where destiny lie
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| The bells sound, nailed down, the effigy cry
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| A couple rappers want a beef they respectfully die
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| They ended up losing they teeth, but I left them alive
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| I crush a skull with one hand, the other a spine
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| I snap a motherfucker head, he dead on the dime
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| I carve a muh’fucker up like Geppetto with knives
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| That’s the magic of the Persian and Arab design
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| That’s the marriage of exertion, inertia defined
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| That’s the savage that was perfectly nurtured in time
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| I put pacifists in caskets, my version of crime
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| I’m an assassin and my passion is bursting your mind
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| God of the Serengeti
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| Sirens and ambulances in the streets, there’s race riots and panthers
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| And cops hosing down innocent bystanders
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| Hand grenades and shanks, automatic bullets, pray to the banks
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| Government emergency, military sending in tanks
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| How did I get in this position?
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| I’m sick of living Kevorkian vision
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| And bridge jumping, razorblade wrists slitting
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| In the car garage carbon monoxide sniffing
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| Wine glass full of cyanide, sipping
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| Russian roulette, the chamber’s spinning
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| Death by my own manslaughter, I’m going out like Ernest Hemingway
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| And his sister and his brother and his father and his granddaughter
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| Society losing religion, there’s too much heat in Lucifer’s kitchen
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| Never know if a politician’s speaking truth or fiction
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| You spit with true conviction you’ll be the victim of a crucifixion
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| The hangman will leave you from a noose swinging and ruin your mission
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| Not every punk on the street is recruitable
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| These snitches will start singing and turn the police precinct into a musical
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| Most these thugs is snitching-ass cowards
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| You ain’t nothing but somebody’s bitch in prison getting dick in the showers
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| Too many sleeping on me like narcolepsy, my weapon arsenal is deadly
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| I’m definitely an artist, they ain’t ever market it correctly
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| Piss on the pavement in the public, jerk my dick on the Fox News
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| Police piss me off, I’ll pull it out and piss on they cop shoes
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| Come on
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| G-O-D of the Serengeti
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| You gonna turn this robbery to a homicide
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| The Desert Eagle is lethal, evil personified
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| Dominicans here take you for a dollar ride
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| You want beef you gonna lose god stop his vibe
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| I don’t respect life, pussy if you die, you die
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| Most high, Rastafari, I and I
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| I’m always gonna keep it gutter like a five and dime
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| And when I die the prophecy gonna stay alive
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| Yeah, and y’all should study all the things that’s written
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| About the Roman Empire and the Kings of Britain
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| Merlin exists and manuscripts have been forbidden
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| And understand that King James is a piece of fiction
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| My box game like Ant Tarver
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| I’m no fool, I’m old school like my grandfather
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| Ain’t nobody take my punch that can stand conscious
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| Psychologically imbalanced, I’m a man’s conscience
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| God of the Serengeti
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| God of the Serengeti
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| God of the Serengeti
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| God of the Serengeti
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| G-O-D of the Serengeti
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| God of the Serengeti
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| G-O-D of the Serengeti
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| God of the Serengeti
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| G-O-D of the Serengeti
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| God of the Serengeti |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Razor Gloves, artist - Vinnie Paz. Album song God of the Serengeti, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп