|
Chief Kamachi: |
|
Yeah, uh |
|
The dark arts |
|
AOTP, yeah |
|
Feel like the nineties right here don't it |
|
Yeah uh uh, uh uh take 'em back |
|
Yeah, yo |
|
Chief Kamachi: |
|
Yo I'm a pharaoh my street magic been on deck |
|
I'm the north Philly Imhotep, you ain't been no threat |
|
Look at the walls to my lingual set |
|
In the trim on the gold coffin where my demo's kept |
|
It's Kamachi my legendary status is earned |
|
With the ashes of dead faggots from the Vatican burned |
|
I don't care unless the murder of the Pope is concerned |
|
I'm +Violent By Design+ with the scope in the urn |
|
You sweet wearing sequins stroking a perm |
|
I'm in the desert with fatigues try'na focus the germ |
|
Yeah, and all you see is blocks of fire |
|
Suicide bombers screaming what to Allah |
|
Y'all try'na play heavenly angels |
|
Get ya halos mangled, in the throat of ya saviour strangled |
|
Enough to baffle your ears a little shrapnel from the chapel stairs |
|
Vinnie Paz: |
|
Ayyo my flow is pain |
|
I feel nothing I'm bleeding Novicane. |
|
This is a soldier game fuck 'em buck 'em blow his brain |
|
I camel-clutch mics put ya fuckin' soul in flames |
|
Take a hold of you and scold you with Jehovah's name |
|
We fuckin' load and aim, ayyo Chief Kamach' |
|
Take these rappers and strangle 'em until they breathing stops |
|
We talking weed and rocks, Desert E's and glocks |
|
The only thing that make me happier is bleeding cops |
|
I only fuck around with ill rappers |
|
My homie Celph got the heritage, stealth and all the ill clappers |
|
You only mad 'cos your flame is dying |
|
It ain't hard to find you can catch me on the grind with Seamus Ryan |
|
Esoteric: |
|
Master builder |
|
Rap British Bulldog boy ask Mathilda |
|
Cats with the steel young god |
|
The soul benders with uncontrollable tempers |
|
Leave you dead in your Nikes like you was heaven's scapegoat members |
|
Yonder yo the, money folder with that funky odour |
|
Don't get it twisted like I'm speakin' with the tongue of Yoda |
|
You stay behind the voices like a cock-less thunder quoter |
|
I'm sayin' fuck the voices like a foreign country soldier |
|
Shay's worthy my family play dirty |
|
We continue to diss you discontinue like a J-30 |
|
(Money wants you killed) Yo you better tell cuz' |
|
To rely on M-16s like D-12 does |
|
Celph Titled: |
|
It's the Army of the Pharaohs |
|
Make a threat, you're hardly a scarecrow |
|
We provide you with ammo knockin' off your sombrero |
|
So move back bandejo, you dealin' with a lot of these guys |
|
Who rock silk suits with Mafia ties |
|
I'm blazing hot, open my mouth, flames come out |
|
You's a snitch open your mouth, and names come out |
|
So we gonna, hop your top off and brains come out |
|
Nigga I thought you said you knew, what a gangsta 'bout? |
|
Hang 'em out, these pussies is wet, leave 'em to dry |
|
I do the work of the devil, I'm a +hell of a guy+ |
|
Unload the MP5 and leave your studio sprayed |
|
And have blood squirting out ya head like Coolio's braids |
|
Doggy this is how we slaughter heads |
|
Catch you sleepin' stab you so deep the tip of the blade puncture your water bed |
|
'Cos I'm the type to slice the skin on your back off |
|
Come back a week later and slice the motherfuckin' scab off |