Army of the Pharaohs — Midnight Burial
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Текст Army of the Pharaohs — Midnight Burial
Ayo y’all pussy like a Fleshlight
My squad is the ride or die, «arf arf» DMX type
I be iller in my next life
I’m fucking Rad without the BMX bike
Yeah, that’s for my 80’s kids there
And y’all walk with rat tails like an 80’s kids hair
I smoke wax and eat pot brownies
And still will crush and fold a grown man like Jadeveon Clowney
Got the pound on me
Don’t get loud on me
It’ll be my treat, have a few rounds on me
Salute, wild flute, wild fate
Only thing sicker than Lost Cauze is child rape
Puerto-rock Rambo, long range ammo
Always on my toes but I don’t rock sandals
Uncaged animal, off the leash, awkward speech
Crumbs off the table, is that what you call a feast?
Underground king, underworld got ’em under siege
Cold blooded killers, we make the Tundra freeze
Last life line, I’m out to make a million
Kinda hard to do without pussies catching feelings
I go all in, I ain’t got nothing to lose
Hollow points split your face, fucking up your point of view
Niggas acting funny, trust me, I am so amused
Terminate ’em On Sight, we know who is who
Ayo, fuck a cap and gown, attack your crown, we the last around
Blasting that classic sound, lock it up, latch it down
At the clowns, late to the fight, he tryna catch a round
Only way I stoop to his levels to feed my basset hound
I already passed the pound, I ain’t trying to match your style
I ain’t trying to rescue or adopt a crappy rapper now
I’m in my cabin only happy with the bats around
Like an older Bruce Wayne or a younger Satchel now
I’m saying when he’s at the mound, if you can’t keep up
We ain’t on the same Paige, it’s time that I sweep up
AOTP there ain’t no equal, we anger people
Like casting Mel Gibson in a Django sequel
Yeah, I spit incredible
Your style DOA, stinking in the vestibule
Automatic fire attire getting rid of you
Shoulda just retired, now they sizing up a suit for you
Look at you, in shits creek
Not a paddle in sight, shit’s deep
I don’t understand that, gun in your mouth talk
Getting intimate with .40 cals, where your tough talk?
It fell back, guess who had to second guess
When you realize that the main man was named Des
AOTP, put your motherfucking heart to test
25 deep, niggas rolling to your fucking rest
I can get retarded too, bonafide idiot
Fully auto in the tuck, watch how much lead is spit
You delicate, softer than some baby thighs
Drag you kids to the underground like I’m Pennywise
Stoned off the reefer and the vodka got my liver fried
Never have to be a losing nigga if you never tried
Out the sludge and the slime, the bottom of the barrel
I’m a God and a Pharaoh Rap game Robert De Niro
Or better yet rap game Ron Swanson
My song sponsoring my lab I keep flying saucers in
Holsters and harnesses, my gold never tarnishes
Gun powder Pharmacist, Manhattan Project on this shit
Getting high, injecting snake venom
So get the fuck outta Dodge, avoid taser shots — Bitch, I’m ducking the charge
Your rough rugged facade just a mirage
So let’s aim for your neck — make a bloody collage
My bread straight, no croissant, so let’s go
My gun won the Cannabis cup for having the best smoke
