Sido — Goldjunge
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Goldjunge Sido04:32
Текст песни: Goldjunge
Battle Cry Lyrics[Intro: Vinnie Paz] Hahahaha… Yeah, motherfuckers! We’re back! Pharaoh clique, motherfucker! Yeah! Des Devious! (King Syze!) Apathy! Celph Titled! (Kamachi!) Vinnie P! Outerspace! 7L, ES! [Verse 1: Apathy] I put you up on the IV, not the Roman Numeral 4 But the IV that leads to the funeral floor Wax gets melted, breaks bones, fractures pelvics Speeds through space and cracks glass Astronaut helmets Face it, motherfucker I could pay to get rid of you! I've got more heads in the hood than Pagan rituals A new tyrannical force for you to fear Known to kill and keep human ears as souvenirs A shape-shifter, face slitter, paper getter, tape your sister Wake your sister, make your sister, take it in the face And if you're facing us, block off a thirty-block radius I throw more blows than boxing Doctor Octavius [Verse 2: King Syze] Ever since we made some noise I learned people love a winner We the quality of deep dish rims, y'all the hub spinners Tough sinners, break bread with Jesus at dinner Protected by a heavenly force, fuck a minister! Niggas know better, no one's letter is better than mine Every time I rhyme, it's metal, the terror level is high Plus I testify, it's best you die Then to find the truth deep down in a mountain of lies Downsize, I'm ousting you guys deep in the dirt Clocking in and out of rap, have y'all fiending for work When I'm breeding, yo it's treason what the semen is worth Non-believing, make me steaming, make you meeting the earth [Verse 3: Crypt the Warchild] Ayo, it's my world and I won't stop And if you stand in my way you bound to get popped In the land where you lay and fade from stray shots I demand that you pay and stray from strange blocks I'm the man that you pray don't spray the flames hot I could tan in the blaze for days and stain cops I astound and amaze, y'all praise the same God I'mma pound out your brain and scrape the graveyard Have you shout out in pain, y'all say y'all Bravehearts? I'mma box up your frame and play the same card And I'm out for fame, space-bars, and quasars Pharaohs locked the game, no shame, we hate y'all [Bridge 1: Vinnie Paz] Yeah! Raw motherfucking rap! Hardcore shit! '94 shit! Shoot the fucking place up, yeah! [Verse 4: Des Devious] A-O-T-P, blast through your army fatigues Damage your team, the competition done it with ease Gun in my sleeve 'cause nowadays homicide is my steez Collecting my cream, I'm living your dream and peeping your scheme Put you on lean from right hooks, pausing your jux You fake crooks need to hit them books Learn the rules of the game, two to your brain, three to your frame Incredible pain, you getting drenched in that "November Rain" We the opposite of that wack shit, trash man, the clack rapid You die tragic, five-six professional assassins Rocking these mics and repping my fam with passion Remember its Q-Dement', you bastards! [Verse 5: Esoteric] Tell your man and your parents We be demanding ten grand an appearance At the minimum, my venom damage your lyrics We be like Manny Ramirez, compatible with the radical Magical and emphatical, I'ma battle 'til I shatter your clavicle Call me admiral, raising the temp of the room I'm the emperor, remember I'll never surrender I dismember platoons, your petty men are buffoons We send 'em to their doom the second my venom enters their wounds I mentally bloom, exhume tombs with dope lyrics 2Pac is alive and well, Big L "The Devil's Son" Rise from hell with dope lyrics Live in regret, A-O-T-P these shook rappers hit the deck [Verse 6: Chief Kamachi] Courtesy of the streets, make it a microphone Middle East My specialty, only rhymer enveloping my lyric sheets Knock turbans off of sheikhs, use a pipe bomb Downtown Israeli boutiques, full of dead tourists With they dreams no longer in arms' reach, that's what I call Dealing with calm speech, when I alarm your peeps Inscribed in a peasant's palm is a blessed psalm If you draw and your weapons wrong, there ain't no stepping on My forty-five is my weapon, my culture's a holster Where seven-inch slugs is kept in, squarely I step in Tilting my clips and blue Stetson, God is my essence So you could check these rhymes for reference, adept to any preference, pussy! [Bridge 2: Vinnie Paz] Yeah, baby! Kings of the motherfucking underground! Y'all motherfuckers don't want it with us! This that raw shit! Throwback shit! [Verse 7: Celph Titled] I make Evel Knievel music, I come through stunting Every verse is the same, just flipped a little something-something Baby, I'm crazy, a crazy baby, a sick infant Born with an intent to spit slick sentences with sick penmanship Shoot at your Chicago fitted and knock your socks off Aimed at your door but hit your head, shot your locks off I heard you was afraid to say my name on your record Cause you's afraid I'd put your motherfucking frame on a stretcher I can't change laws son, that's a government issue But I'll break laws with a gun that's a government issue It's the Army, we got power in numbers And that's nines, forty-fives, three-five-sevens, and M-500s [Verse 8: Planetary] Some people say I'm superior when I shit it Vivid visionary spit, vocabulary ridiculous I am a tyrant, I'm Violent by Design I silence the scientific with every line of the rhyme Mozart of street rap, breaking the barriers Space Harrier, filled with forties and pit terriers Ready to mangle, anybody cross a line I saw the sign then ran with the Army, lost in time Ready for war, but won't rock no dick trees I rock mics, you think it's a hundred and sixty degrees Who stomp crews, batter and bruise cliques Kill bitches and stab you tricks With loose lips [Verse 9: Vinnie Paz] I'm slightly disturbed, Pazienza is nice with the words That's the reason that I'm fly, like the life of a bird I don't care if you dead, let God have ya Cause I'mma stay rugged and raw like Marv Hagler That's something you don't know about you small rapper Nice with the left, nice with the right, the jaw tapper Allah backer, murder every track that I'm on You just spit a fucking verse wack, then you gone Fuck fame, I studied the fame closely They build you up, then you get rocked like Shane Mosley It's pain, homie, and your blood in my pen It's Army of the Pharaohs and we flooded with gems [Outro: Vinnie Paz] The Torture motherfucking Papers! Dead Sea Scrolls out here! Y'all don't want it! It's fucking raw rap! A-O-T-P!7
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