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army of the pharaohs - wrath prophecy lyrics
[intro: zilla]
motherf-ckers always wanna talk sl1ck man
till they be in front of you man you know what i mean
yo, army of the pharaohs man
it’s ya boy zilla right now you know what i mean?
[verse 1: zilla]
see i’m a fire breathing monster zilla stomp them and eat em
slap you out of your skeleton melon swelling from beatings
came from an era of dookie chains and skeezers
memorex type c-ssettes recording my favorite heathens
papa used to call them that i ain’t never believe em
before run was a reverend i used to rev engines and steal em
the coat hanger told her what chop shops in the region
the heavy metal was loading where wack rappers was beefing
hold it, this is a moment and i ain’t planning on leaving
my planet is an ocean of alien type excretion
excerpts of my life that i ain’t bothered deleting
that’s also why i’m sicker than half of you n-ggas speaking
[verse 2: planetary]
y’all losin’ to older heads bleeding crayola red
my team all over the web charolette kept all of us fed
guillotine off with your head walk with the dead
bust off with the lead i see these n-ggas talking to feds
off of the ledge, off of the hook and off of the meds
off of the leash i’m not your average dog in the shed
i’m more of a beast a wolf that stray away from the sheep
i pray for the weed i need to be paid every week
i’d rather push yay on the street than play with these beats
this pharaoh sh-t is in me so i’m playing for keeps
everyday i hunt for prey that i could savour to eat
i’m a lion no denying i’m not case on a beat
[verse 3: doap nixon]
studied the art of war perpetually
slang polo and cheddar thats the recipe
cream get the best of me
i’m army certified never question my pedigree
broke nights, c0keheads, snow white, amphetamines
it’s like j tom got dudes in the cobra clutch
they got n-ggas so broke they can’t break a dutch
off a fudgie for brothers who wasn’t so lucky
roosters, stashing chickens in they’re own yucky
23 and 1 never going to see the sun
a man ain’t a man if he can’t feed his son
i got work for these young punks
keep hoes come drunk chop a general monk monk
get more eyes the bar reflect my shining star
no need to resurrect if everybody see the god
so pay homage my royalties is imminent
energy can’t be destroyed that means i’m infinite
[verse 4: celph t-tled]
you just a b-tch and you scared
started throwing up your set so
you just fixed your hands like you was fixing your hair
i’ll potato a haters head and chop sui a flamer dead
i always hit the brain, when you shoot you barely graze a leg
(you ready k!lla?)
i’m ’bout to send you death in a gift basket
pink bow and shrink wrap plastic
just cause i think you’re a f-ggot (p-ssy)
aotp, we on a new com wave
every web that we weave no disarming code bomb case
extort your block for that work and come back on the first
try us at all and ride off in a cadillac he-rs-
the state attorney made it seem like i went extra hard
all i did was show my fists and i caught a weapons charge
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