Army Of The Pharaohs - Sword And Bullet lyrics

[Verse 1: Doap Nixon] I can't let my guard down all around these losers Been drunk of the Sake, Purple Haze and hookahs Gone for a second so you better get used to The illest n***a, keep codeine up in this juice cup This beat banging so I'm right in my lane? I'm from the same streets where broke n***as fight over change It's obvious, (What?) Y'all show the Pharaohs respect You see n***as getting handled than you're probably next This is for my now y n***as, send a copy to Flex But Philly been getting it in since they popping ca**ettes It's a drama theme, MC's just don't get it Till you pistol whip a n***a right out of existence So hurry hurry you're the next contestant Giving n***as the real me without the aggression Gotta finesse it, the game loves when we spit Like a p**y whip n***a when he cuffing his b**h (whoa) [Verse 2: Crypt the Warchild] Pussies better run I'mma keep the story short cause the plot heavy I'm Lee Malvo riding dirty in a box Chevy Pop crown, pop Henny, pop clowns, pop steady Calm deadly, palms sweaty, every time I count fetti We're coming for blood, money power respect Pharaoh's general so I devour rejects Got these chickens turned out Never been turnt up I don't do things twice, mistakes gotta learn from Air these n***as out, rappers are a danger Feeling resurrected, bloody jumping out the manger Zero tolerance, start f**ing up these haters If I don't see you now p**y I'mma see you later [Verse 3: Demoz] AOTP we back n***a n***a I don't even like to rap (NO) I like to snap grab the mic and wrap the cord around your neck The sh** will burn you like a lighting match I meet a b**h and leave a b**h, really I don't need a b**h It's cold outside, it's common sense to let your heaters spit Ironically I'm rational cause all of my music is past cla**ical My cla**ical music is not national I'm somewhere out on Mars with it Car tinted, arsenic Burn you till you dark skinned, I'm hard headed but marketed Retarded with this artist sh** You starting sh** I'm past the finish line My mind is on some other sh** like a horror flick Calling through to your fraud or groupie or broad with dookie Coming out the mouth when I see 'em it's gon' be Call Of Duty Keep staring, you gon' be blind soon After tearing your eyes out I'm terrorizing your iTunes Bulletproof rap, I supply goons This a bottle of [?] you gon' die soon, n***a [Verse 4: Vinnie Paz] How many bodies have I pa**ed through? Possibly five Before we ascend to the one of the posthumous lives After all the blood gone, the commodity dies Why Vinnie ill? That's just geography, Pa The ape man, the space man, the Carl Sagan With the knowledge of an intellectualized pagan I've got shooters from Richmond Island to Moore Haven The perfection is the accomplishment of starvation You can't be a general without having soldiers That's the perfection of rhythm, it's a magnum opus Talent doesn't mean anything if you lacking focus That's why most of you motherf**ers is rather hopeless