Rugged Monk - Bloody Samurai lyrics

[Hook 2X: Thea Van Seijen] Bloody samurai, my feet will never die Bloody samurai, my sword will never die [Crisis] Yeah I'm like daredevils, I dare devils to take it to that level Make 'em dig they own grave Wit they own shovels Sharpshooter Drop helicopters, black out shadows Cuz when it's time to ride, it's like pedal to the metal Full fledged Beat suicidal, leave holes with skull heads Hit your cult for your vault, leave 'em all dead And some Nice swipe game plus handsome Hoes hold me ransom Get mad and throw tantrums Seven braids like Samson, strength of Job Since these n***as wanna trip, I make it all unfold Didn't choose the genie Didn't choose the leprechaun n***as better watch the gravesite They stepping on Thinking it's a game I rose him Now your a** is frozen Nuclear explosion We straight West Coastin' [Thea Van Seijen] I was born as a soldier, and I'll fight in a field I'll run like a hunter, and I'll die in the field [Hook 2X] [Rugged Monk] The street apostle with Roscoe's That'll burn flesh off your fossil Make you s** on that nozzle 'fore you swallow these hollows Clutching a bottle, yeah, I'm a hard act to follow n***a, I don't write raps Little homey, I write novels Every chapter I capture, the mind of millions When I slang raps like crack, to the women and children Bring down the building Crowd roars oh what a feeling Feels good like I'm puffing on that sticky chameleon The street villain Made most of his money from drug dealing It's rules to the game, trust nobody that's squealing Cuz snitching is a pet peeve, Like a b**h with a bad weave It's not honor amongst thieves, n***a deal wit greed I'm from a breed of real k**as That's cutthroat That'll front you to work and k** you if a buck short Bloodsport Flick you like the bu*t of my Newport Or with the bu*t of my gun Take that, n***a, run [Dexter Wiggles] I come to stop the hollering and screaming, blaow Stop screaming, make a n***a wish he still dreaming Since appearing against a ninja, taught him barbarianism South Central mentalism Like the local news on the local high school for all this realism Don't let all the whites go there cause all the whites'll go there Have 'em all braiding they hair, and having tattoos Aand street numbers instead of good grades from school It's like ridicule, and what would Jesus do? If he was standing at apartment, he was beeping with that dizzle Like a hole ain't enough to end all ridicule But a hoe'll get real holy enough to preach and end you [Hook 2X] [Sample] If you win, I'll tell you where to find the number two If I win, I have your head Do we have a deal?