ARMY OF THE PHARAOHS - Contra Mantra lyrics

rate me

I solemnly swear, this is my testimony

I'm a keep it one hundred while the rest are phony

I'm wilding out like suicide is my mission

I ain't trying to be crucified by the system

You should take heed, I advise you to listen

Watch me break knees, I'm surprising my victims

The question remains who am I when I'm spitting?

It's me the MC, I ain't no new edition

My mind's a coliseum, I spit diamonds that glisten

The beat is my journal where these lines will get written

Been through the garden, ate the fruit that's forbidden

So back the fuck up when I'm removing my fitted

You could never walk in these shoes you don't fit in

Y'all all say you're hot but that is just your opinion

Y'all can all die in the spot that you sit in

AOTP, the underground has risen

All we do is pray till the game come back

That's why we sitting here building spitting flame on track

So what you say don't matter at all

So we gonna sit here and wait till God answer the call

All we do is pray till the game come back

That's why we sitting here building spitting flame on track

So what you say don't matter at all

So we gonna sit here and wait till God answer the call

It's such a pity, ain't nothing pretty, lyrics bury cats

Under one hundred and fifty tons of scum in the city

You say you're popping bottles and stunting like Diddy

But your pockets be flatter than a model's stomach or titties

Why you fronting like you're rugged and gritty?

Why I spit it so hot? Why I like Big L and Big Pun more than Biggie and Pac?

I'm from that late 90's era where that Polo wasn't jig enough

But Gucci and Louis and Prada shit wasn't big enough

I would spit it ridiculous, stay on point like Rondo

Y'all bring up the rear like a J-Lo convoy

No, they don't want no beef, they all want their teeth

I may go bronco so lay low pronto, chief

Four albums in a year, that's more than in your whole career

They all bang, battle out, do more than end your whole career

So severe, I beat you with a folding chair, listen

AOTP's what the game's missing

Yeah yeah, paper money? No I wanna see that iron buck

They be robbing hoods so I keep that fryer tucked

Try to have these cops take it from me

You end up red and blue like a female cop on they monthly

Dumping student bodies in front of the student body, air em out

Beacon on my radar telling me where's your whereabouts

Magazine drums have your head bobbing

Dead body nonstop nodding downhill in a toboggan

Shoot the uz through your house in Honolulu (ooch oww)

Throw a pineapple grenade at you (luau)

Am I conceited? Oh yeah, best believe it

Rap supervisor pop up on lawns with firearms to surprise you

We'll be rocking an upside-down visor

And it won't be a whack fashion trend either

More like Suge Knight, Vanilla Ice shit, hotel balcony dangling

My monsoon is Tom Cruise Valkyrie famous