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Army Of The Pharaohs

Black Christmas

 

Black Christmas

(albüm: Ritual Of Battle - 2007)


[Planetary:]
Put me in the booth and I'll brodie your wave files
You still getting booed at the open mic like 8 Mile
You still acting like spoken word is serious
I laugh at you fag-niggas with dyed hair and pierced lips
What kinda nigga from the hood is you?
I could name fifty niggas that's as good as you
But a nigga like Plan man I'm better than all of 'em
I make em quit, now their baby moms' is calling for em
Askin me where they baby pop at
That nigga he at the sink cleaning my White Sox hat, bitch!
I tell em call you back in a minute
Cause when he finish he gotta brush my dunks so vintage
I'm in this rap game for the spinach
My food-for-thought is like serving fresh lettuce to niggas
I'm the chef and I'm cooking up Def Jams
Broad street bully cut the check for ten grand

[Doap Nixon:]
I made a promise that I never get high
I ain't scared of death, I'm scared to live wanting to die
Cause the one-twenty opened my eyes
The Koran molded me
The Bible told me what's a disguise
But, I broke lights like they need to be fixed
And had a thought pattern process that D and B's rich
But, the block chirped, hid work in the trash-can
I rip a nigga off and lay low in the badlands (Let me get that, nigga)
Stay bent off of what poppy done sold me
We all forced to hold heat, smokin the gold tree
So knowledge knowledge till the seven-fifteen-four
Vinnie Paz, Planetary, Reef the Lost Cauze
Kamach, my nigga Crypt and Demoz
Apathy, Celph Titled and King Syze
We all 'bout to put this game in a frenzy
And the chain's slight frost like the air in the Benzy

[Demoz:]
I can feel a breeze through the leaves when D's passing me by
You can breathe you can bleed but please wrap me a nine on Black Christmas
I need a gun with bullets on black Christmas, black Christmas
Nigga look at me little B
My peeps asking me why
I'm a G this is me, so please wrap me a nine on black Christmas
I need a gun with bullets on black Christmas, black Christmas

[Des Devious:]
Yeah, yo, it's incredible the most
How a nigga flow just come so easy
Child's play to me home boy, please believe me
The way I formulate on time with metaphors, lines, and punchlines?
Sometimes the shit amaze me
Fall back with a spliff and admire my shit
Don't need you, got enough people on my dick
I speed through, breathe life on a track so slick
With sick shit, time's money so I must move quick
Epitome of rap
Never been clapped never been slapped up
Just one time, cold winter day in '79
I catch that guy, and I'ma beat him till my arm's numb
And stomp him like Lars did that drum on one, motherfucka!

[Demoz:]
I once heard The Art of War is don't start a war
So I don't think you wanna ride like a carnivore
I mean carnival, excuse my French I'm on the floor
The blues and wet got me feeling like I took a hallucinate
Blue is bent, L-Y who the truest yet
Blew the inf, brain fragments flying through the fence
Stupid is as stupid does
I ain't stupid cause
I rap like a motherfucking animal my blueish blood
Never spills, I wrap my hand around the bluest steel
Blew his grill like Foreman informants know who I kill
Ill, now get outta my face
Sorry officer, me no hablo ingles
Let me offer you, food for thought on a plate
Once you know the block hot you hit the fire escape
Get in get out, hit liars and snakes
Your birthday the only day you rely on the cake nigga!

I can feel a breeze through the leaves when D's passing me by
You can breathe you can bleed but please wrap me a nine on Black Christmas
I need a Gun with bullets on black Christmas, black Christmas
Nigga look at me little B
My peeps asking me why
I'm a G this is me, so please wrap me a nine on black Christmas
I need a gun with bullets on black Christmas, black Christmas

[King Magnetic:]
Army of T.P., honor of street thieves
The harmony of harm done to a beast-beat
I execute from hook to hook like a nice jab
And pain from pushers squeeze like my wife's hand
Slight tan, my homie Muslim like Fife's man
Pillow of kush, as if the kush is my life span
My product slip through the right hands like white sand
Those I kill for, can count on my right hand
Beef handled like blades in knife factories
Cut coke, cut bum niggas like nutso
This ain't a movie clip, it's a jewelry stick
Ever see me running
You'll have to be like, "Who'd he hit?"
You knew he Vic, shit, still trusted him
Know a lotta robbers from bids, still fuck wit them
That don't mean they up in my crib, I'm still hustling
Anniversary nine-elven we still suffering!

[Vinnie Paz:]
I'm a motherfucking monster, everything I'm spitting is all real
Take a good look in my trunk and it's all steel (Yeah)
Ain't nobody in control it's Allah's will
The other trunk ain't filled with diesel, it's all krill
Arm leg leg arm head when the gods build
You the first devil with a plate when the hog's killed
You the first one to run from the war
You the first one to run from Vinnie's gun when it draw (Brat, brat!)
I left your whole team deaf when I spoke
Then I put your whole entire fuckin set in the yolk
Yeah, we ain't the motherfuckin set to provoke
Or else the last thing you see the fuckin deck of a boat!
Brat, brat!
Hahaha!

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