C - Lance - Coka Kings lyrics

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C - Lance - Coka Kings lyrics

[Ill Bill] Yo you get hit like surface-to-air missiles, get crashed like Zildjian cymbals My aura is a force-field that can withstand pistols And nuclear payloads that erase whole continents Turn global occupants to smouldering apocalypse Coka inclined to pain, Coka and the Hologram Broken Bottle Gang, buck-fifty you in Rotterdam My goons are carnivores and outlaws that start wars Scarred yours like dartboards, drop you where the sharks swarm Sub-zero freezing weather, gun below the Peewee sweater Shoot lead, green Beretta, you dead, we forever Spaz with the Uzi, hold the chromey to peel Uncle Howie bragged he used to do coke with Toni Tennille Flame with the molotov, common place like date rapes in college dorms I make the planet rock like Afrika Bambaataa songs Die effective martyrs, deaded for doom Coka Kings riot tested Armageddon approved [Hook] This Coka Kings, hard body sh**, you know that we a problem Coka Kings, the dope stuff [Vinnie Paz] 9-lethal rap, Pazienza, Coka Nos' Three murderers, father and son and holy ghost Dig a hole, carry the head of a Trojan goat My voice carry the power that's from Jehovah's throat Pazienza paranoid so the toaster's close Premonition of pain inside the vulture's cloak My cousin Lethal cut it up like it was soap and coke The fat ba*tard a track master like Tone and Poke My b**h carry my hammer inside a Burberry bag I leave you covered in shells like you a hermit crab Steadfast and bled fast when the curtain dragged The haze of infatuation of smoking dirt and skag co*k the motherf**ing Glock, good riddance Make this motherf**er rock like if Pac was spitting God-forbidden, put a hole inside your fitted Take your head with your conscious in it I'm a G [Hook] This Coka Kings, hard body sh**, you know that we a problem Coka Kings, the dope stuff [Slaine] I'm a political prisoner living on this criminal planet Animal chemical mixologist, my confidence is brimming Goddamn it more prominence, escalating to a dominance The high exalted kingdom of Slaine, the slang poet The AA, the anonymous, IRA conglomerate Bombing it, f** it I'm old school, I stay with that atomic sh** Keep lighting the dust bone when you hit it cause the embalming's wet Your dos is don'ts and you ain't got out of your pajamas yet My ego's bigger than Obama's lips My lips spit verses of controversy with no mercy, yous are counterfeits Your money's no good over this way, it don't amount to sh** My respect's my currency, go ahead, try and count the bills I stack federal notes, you say the angel's just dangerous But I didn't tell you the devil is dope Ask the h**n shooters, nothing like a rush in the vein f** I'm insane, still stuck in this illustrious pain