Twiz The Beat Pro - Fed To The Lions lyrics

[Intro: Vinnie Paz] Yeah! This Spartan music man! This Sparta! I'm a f**ing Spartan man! Listen! Yeah! [Verse 1: Vinnie Paz] Boxcutter Pazzy alias Lucifer's friend Yahweh Ben Yahweh loosen the pen I shoot it before I'm not against shooting again I'm through with you buls, you not ever moving again Y'all are bus riders, hoppin' the deuce to the ten Vinnie a carnivore y'all is arugula fem Mecca Medina followed by Jerusalem then I'm a gorilla from the Biblical zoo with the pen Kool G, Moe Dee, I'm a fusion of them The physical manifestation of music from them Pill bottles, Grey Goose and hallucinogens The MC decapitated no uses for them [Verse 2: Reef The Lost Cauze] Round the clock shots I bang all year Raise your guns and salute, 'cause the gang's all here n***as had minor setbacks, but that's all clear It's the Army of the Pharaohs: the sum of all fears Ah yeah, I'm so focused, I'm damn near laser like Sharp as a razor, you small fries like tater bites McNugget MC's, popcorn chickens The nine has arisen and I'm not gon' miss I'm not gon' listen to anything rational I'm hardheaded and indifferent So I'm all in your kitchen Looking through the silverware The gaze of a k**er's stare, gorilla's back with silver hairs Keep the metal grungy like Silverchair Drinking so much Vodka that I'm 'bout to have a liver scare Low Life like the Sk**ionaire And I bet it be a f**ing riot whenever my n***as there [Verse 3: Apathy] My code name is Cocaine I'm propane with no flame I make green like David Banner or a fake gold chain I'm Cobain with no brain It's no pain, it's no gain I'm Conan, I'm Chopin, the dope man, I'm profane I'm Xanax, I'm Prozac, I'm rap when it was pro black I'm so crack, I go back to parties playing Soul Clap The old head Jamaicans with machine guns on mopeds The "Oooh, you in trouble, when dad gets home you're so dead" I'm more Timbs than Pro Keds I'm Rakim, I Know The Ledge I know the Feds photo len's follow me it's code red If hoes claim it's "code red", it's all good, it's all head Don't want a problem with me, no sweat I'll body you, I'm Boba Fett [Verse 4: Esoteric] Yo The raps are murderous and lethal Flow, never ending like Fast And Furious sequels Oh Now you's a gangsta, what's that sounding like? My speed's the Batmobile, your speed's a mountain bike Yeah I write an album in a day It takes you a week to come up with one clever thing to say Too busy hashtagging Too busy humble bragging Too busy saying that you working when your feet dragging We in Barcelona You in bars alone, uh, plus your car's a loaner I'm back into focus You jabroni's splashing on cologne the hopeless You don't know what women like, you know aromas Your team's a carcinoma My team's the Army soldiers We all contribute to the game, I'm just the largest donor The spit is sick dog, yeah I bark at owners The Man Of Steel, Superman without the Clark persona [Verse 5: Celph Titled] Let's take a trip inside the mind of a mobster Let's see a rare kind of monster (uurh) Iron I'm palmin', I am Brian De Palma (aww) If Bush hired Osama then fire the Llama (pow) Light the ganja scoma and spit shine my armor (yea) Want weed see the rasta man Wanna get k**ed, come see the "put your noodles in your pasta man" (And that's me) Backyard got snow in the summer I mean I got ski slopes, I am in beast mode Silly puddy my C-4 (uh-huh) No dot com's or dot nets When I rock different links so stop and kiss the pinky ring (the boss) Act tough and I might laugh I'm a giant Sit up out my chair and block your motherf**in' flight path