King Just - Shaolin Soldiers lyrics

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King Just - Shaolin Soldiers lyrics

[intro] That's all we got, we gonna need Choose, you ready Yeah, let's do this sh** Yeah, yeah, yo who be that? Yo that's the god? Yeah, word up, n***as gotta learn to f**in answer me dude I want 'em all, f** that Shaolin, shao!!! [king just] What, what, my gods is raced up The thought that i throw is like a blow to your gut Word up, what the f**, the god creates drama Two-six horror, terrorize the n***a mama I smell marce in the air, yeah Where, all my gods standin right here In the rear, tryin to sneak me from behind Shaolin, rush 'em, nah nah he's mines Die earth scum, die, die It's just like a needle goin straight to my eye Oh why, does it have to be this way I don't know, but i flip the sh** everyday So come on, where you at, where you at Pa** me my gat, i'ma k** a cat, if they ever f** wit the rats And that be the sh** in my life The god ain't trife, yikes, yikes Fool strikes, kung fu, k**a comin through Ooh, that be that n***a from the zoo But yet ya wanna ask me, how i slam a jam It's simple, all i do is gram on a gram in a cracker Hit ya like a linebacker, i'mma gat ya When i get ya, i'mma blast ya Blaow, like kool moe dee, how ya like me know When my style is ill, raow raow [chorus 6x] Shaolin soldiers! (hey!) [king just] Enough is enough, wit this corn ball stuff About who can get rough and tough, or who can get snuffed Please, if you came to battle, then rap Cuz your name ain't scarface, and you don't own no gat You ain't hurtin nothin, ain't no future in frontin You probably ain't even sayin nuthin Yo you're bluffin, puttin like your styles is phat But your rhymes are wack and you sound like you on plaque New jack, you're a wanna be, down to be, soon to be Whatever you want, let it be And i'mma hit ya wit a safer rap To make you shut ya trap, and get the god hand clap, smack Hit across your lips wit some sh** That make ya wanna spit and do two back flips Blue top, i clear through the air You against me? well i don't think that's fair You need more people to match my equal And even if then, there won't be no sequel Yo, let's get straight to the matter How my thoughts get phatter and phatter and phatter Ask betty crocker, yo it's in the batter And i'mma climb the charts and splatter [chorus 5x] [king just] Why would you wanna write my sh** like that? Why must the god chase the cat? Why would you even wanna front like that? Smile in my face, and talk sh** behind my back Damn n***a, you must of wasted ya time If you wanted to be rapper, i done wrote you a rhyme Yo, you don't get no props, for bitin my sh** You only get props, for bein on my dick But when you hear this, don't be mad Just be glad, that i ain't whip on ya monkey a** You got a lotta balls bitin my style Soon we gonna be on it like aow, aow Put your sh** on the court Cuz this one here takes to take 'em, yo i'm brake Lord forgiveness sake, for they do not know what they do When they bent the zoo, i should of brought it to they whole crew Badoop a doo, oh my god n***a, let's be real The eight commandment, says thou shall not steal Help police, i'm being robbed By some corns on the car, that need to get a f**in real job The mob rocks more sh** than boulders I told ya, everybody can't be a soldier [chorus 9x]