44 Magnum - Army of the Pharaohs, Vinnie Paz, Crypt the Warchild

I’m infatuated with the fast line life

My forehead lacerated like they just framed christ

Or bitch captivated when I’m activated

Nine planets under my palm, y’all niggas have to hate it

I let y’all debate who the one who rap the greatest

Deadweight niggas get your fucking souls assassinated

The most manic depressive snatching your necklace

Passive aggressive unleashing havoc on a record

Your team is gay, how manage to rep it?

I’m the slum chemistry faggots get disconnected

Venomous rhetoric flooding your block, you’re too delicate

Hot slugs and metal rip, can’t wait to see the pellets hit

Chrome I hold will detach your body from soul

Snub-nosed bulldog four-four when I roll

Big heat will change my dip and the way that I stroll

Made me to perfection, baker shattered the mould

Yeah, see niggas slug it out for absolutely nothing

Like rumours on who they baby momma’s sucking and fucking (me)

Debating on who running the block them niggas be hugging

?

crunch time guess who doing the buzzing (me)

That’s why this nigga bringing up my name in lame discussion

Should be serving life for hammers and weight that I’m clutching

Four-four Mags what we pack, name of the track

Cut no slack, just react so bring it back nigga

I was raised in the Congo by religiously trained Santos

With horns from the trees and magnificent played bongos

Vinnie is the head honcho, pop your eyes out

With my bare hands, there’s blood on my grand poncho

I don’t give a flying fuck though, we all nutso

Put you in a wall underneath where they lay stucco

If I was you I’d pray, bucko

You could be the first motherfucker that I cut and the vein cut slow

Speaking of the cut though rawer than Peruvian

And Vinnie P blast with heat like I’m Vesuvian

If y’all wanna overstand death then y’all should screw with him

Hooligans who beef when it ain’t got nothing to do with them

Where I’m from niggas wouldn’t dare to take the same route

I ain’t gotta say no names to get my name out

It’s fucked up what the game about but

Voices ain’t been the same since T-Pain came out

If you ain’t shooting you gonna get shot

But nowadays niggas is pussy, they do the shooting when they get shot

Get your bitch shot, chin shot

Spit a shell, not a rap to make your motherfucking hip pop

I don’t get shot, I stay strapped like a flip-flop

Mazerati Mazi get gwap before I get got

If not they gonna have to put me in the dirt

It’s either that or they gonna have to cuff me, book like a clerk

Put me in the cell for a pistol and the shell

Miserable as hell cause a nigga wouldn’t tell

School of hard knocks, nigga wouldn’t fail

Got detention for a cell so they put me in the cell