ARMY OF THE PHARAOHS - Gun Ballad lyrics

rate me

Yeah, uh, yeah

We back y'all

Uh, AOTP

This is what y'all was waiting for, right?

Yeah, nothing but that classic, classic, nothing but that classic, classic

Yeah, yo

I stay strolling with Crypt

My opening griff like the smokes of my fifth

Cup of gin, devilish grin, bodies cozy as stiff

It's the messiah, think the black Moses of myth

I hold the staff and turn snakes into netherland piff

I spit the 'glyfics and a mystics, you know what it give

One eye, bloodshot, on a pyramid tick

It's real energy, you a high school chemistry kit

The ease, the crease, get a whole energy lift

If your hate since nine-eight, Kamachi and Hologram

And oh-seven, he the reverend of the lawless land

I crack crosses, I'm here for the fall of man

AOTP, this is what you call a jam

Nigga, I'll leave you poked in the chest

If hip hop is dead, call me ghost in the flesh

I'm close to the best

Kill your fucking man, have a toast to the death

Gotta be a ball game if I'm approaching the bench

Coke on the steps, po-po lock me up

Came home, now we just waiting on mafia

Jay I got you, Vinnie I see you

Crypt, King Size, Planetary, no need to

Display no one else's name, we all lethal

We came from a flame a hundred below evil (Damn!)

Nigga, I'll shoot you, I'll stab you,

I knock your fucking jaw off your face if I smack you

Who's Luke, who's John, who's Paul, who's Matthew

I don't read the fucking bible, nigga, I'll just get at you

I'll make a bunch of crazy white boys kidnap you

Let you know this is real true life, no battle

This is a gun ballad, motherfucker get lost

AOTP: every member is a boss

Can you pay the price when your life is the cost?

Will you crack under pressure, take another loss?

This is a gun ballad, motherfucker get lost

AOTP: every member is a boss

Can you pay the price when your life is the cost?

Will you crack under pressure, take another loss?

This is a gun ballad

You knew the white boy was wild nice

And that I stick the cooker to your ribs like fried rice

I got some cousins moving D at a wild price

That have the dope fiends lean mean when they pound spikes

The aim's sloppy dog, knife work mean

Stick it through the neck, pull it out knife work clean (Ha ha ha ha)

The God righteous, but I might serve fiends

And the four fifth lift you out your iceberg jeans (Yeah!)

I got a lot of young boys and they mad hungry

Murder, kill, shoot the place up, stab for me

This ain't the type of place you can survive God {Not at all}

God don't live inside me, I live inside God

I ain't messing with nines, nah

I give them shits to my bro

I only mess with big shit, with the shoulders involved

Throw your body in the river so the odor dissolve

A head shot, leave your brain under the motor your car

For real, you can bet your last, I split plenty wigs

It's K-T-K, Kenny the Kid

And I'm still in the hood, money, getting them packs off

Side of the barrel, dog

It feel like a scratch off

Broad day light, the hood's like Iraq

I got good aim, peep hole niggas get eye clapped

And we all on ease, all in greens, all in trees, and we all goin' squeeze (Word up)

AOTP, niggas be running game on you

And I ain't talking about my money's gonna rain on you

I'm talking about the shit that dent up your car

Get mines and big faces or I'm clipping your broad, faggot

This is a gun ballad, motherfucker get lost

AOTP: every member is a boss

Can you pay the price when your life is the cost?

Will you crack under pressure, take another loss?

This is a gun ballad, motherfucker get lost

AOTP: every member is a boss

Can you pay the price when your life is the cost?

Will you crack under pressure, take another loss?

This is a gun ballad