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Yeah Yeah |
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Kamachi, Planetary, King Syze |
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[Chief Kamachi] |
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Yo, they love the way I pin a champ, |
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Under a tinted lamp hear my voice blast from a vintage amp. |
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I kill the reciters of lies, |
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Get burned by the fire from the light in my eyes. |
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It's Kamachi, possessed by the pharaoh ways, |
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Underground like where the dead bone marrow stays. |
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The spot where you breath is where the arrow lays, |
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A sideways death for a narrow grave. |
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My shit hit hard like an Arab raid. |
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We blow up, ain't no need for a barricade. |
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They looking for good luck, like a barrel of jade, |
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They looking, so stuffed when the barrel is sprayed. |
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Since the five perfect exertions, they waited afraid. |
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The devil caught from the tower on the table is slayed, pussy. |
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[Chorus x2] |
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Fall back, fold up, rappers is so tough, |
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Until the army roll up banging that cold crush. |
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We send shots through ya vest and leave your soul touched, |
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Lock and load up, post up, toast up. |
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[King Syze] |
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Aiyo, my vocal duel, payments hiatus save the local crews. |
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Only the chosen few can ride with the most explosive crew. |
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But not you, jealous ones they envy us, |
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Cause we spit venomous, until books remember us. |
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Hell fire embedded in us, plus sins condemning us, |
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It's just what I write, ignite cop killers and predators. |
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I be like this, best believe I cant be ignored, |
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Spitting metaphoric, until the chosen child is aborted. |
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When my mind's in orbit, forces knock you out your high horses. |
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Deal with high sources, until the meal is five courses. |
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The flames is high, when my brain and the train collide. |
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Under much needed change in time, the game is mine. |
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Build strength through the niggas that be hating me peers, |
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But it's the army, part of me ya'll been waiting for years. |
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From a small block, hip hop, busting my tool. |
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King Syze, dope shit, what can I say man? It's nothing new. |
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[Chorus x2] |
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Fall back, fold up, rappers are so tough, |
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Until the army roll up banging that cold crush. |
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We send shots through ya vest and leave your soul touched, |
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Lock and load up, post up, toast up. |
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[Planetary] |
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I'm a scientist in the lab, with a violent twist and a gift of gab, |
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Pharaoh tongue that can lash through your clique and stab. |
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From the days where you carried screw drivers, |
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in back pockets in case you had to prove that your crew lava. |
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We was painting on your property, |
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and until this day I still got rookie niggas out trying to copy me. |
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Planetary nigga, Q-D original, |
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Smooth criminal, bash your mental, bruise your physical. |
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There's something about the evilness of this track, |
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it makes the heaven's gates close, and the tabernacles crack. |
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In fact, it separates all the lies and the facts, |
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It makes you see the light right before the sky turns black. |
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It turns boys to men, it turns toy soldiers to generals, |
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Innocent mother fuckers graduate to criminals. |
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It makes you think twice about who you are, |
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It makes you feel like death's coming every 16 bars. |
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[Chorus x2] |
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Fall back, fold up, rappers is so tough, |
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Until the army roll up banging that cold crush. |
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We send shots through ya vest and leave your soul touched, |
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Lock and load up, post up, toast up. |
