Razor Gloves - Vinnie Paz, R.A. The Rugged Man

It’s not a possibility you could ever survive

That’s just the logicality of the Devil inside

Any ounce of goodness in me was never revived

Disconnected or completely connected with God

The hell-hound spellbound where destiny lie

The bells sound, nailed down, the effigy cry

A couple rappers want a beef they respectfully die

They ended up losing they teeth, but I left them alive

I crush a skull with one hand, the other a spine

I snap a motherfucker head, he dead on the dime

I carve a muh’fucker up like Geppetto with knives

That’s the magic of the Persian and Arab design

That’s the marriage of exertion, inertia defined

That’s the savage that was perfectly nurtured in time

I put pacifists in caskets, my version of crime

I’m an assassin and my passion is bursting your mind

God of the Serengeti

Sirens and ambulances in the streets, there’s race riots and panthers

And cops hosing down innocent bystanders

Hand grenades and shanks, automatic bullets, pray to the banks

Government emergency, military sending in tanks

How did I get in this position?

I’m sick of living Kevorkian vision

And bridge jumping, razorblade wrists slitting

In the car garage carbon monoxide sniffing

Wine glass full of cyanide, sipping

Russian roulette, the chamber’s spinning

Death by my own manslaughter, I’m going out like Ernest Hemingway

And his sister and his brother and his father and his granddaughter

Society losing religion, there’s too much heat in Lucifer’s kitchen

Never know if a politician’s speaking truth or fiction

You spit with true conviction you’ll be the victim of a crucifixion

The hangman will leave you from a noose swinging and ruin your mission

Not every punk on the street is recruitable

These snitches will start singing and turn the police precinct into a musical

Most these thugs is snitching-ass cowards

You ain’t nothing but somebody’s bitch in prison getting dick in the showers

Too many sleeping on me like narcolepsy, my weapon arsenal is deadly

I’m definitely an artist, they ain’t ever market it correctly

Piss on the pavement in the public, jerk my dick on the Fox News

Police piss me off, I’ll pull it out and piss on they cop shoes

Come on

G-O-D of the Serengeti

You gonna turn this robbery to a homicide

The Desert Eagle is lethal, evil personified

Dominicans here take you for a dollar ride

You want beef you gonna lose god stop his vibe

I don’t respect life, pussy if you die, you die

Most high, Rastafari, I and I

I’m always gonna keep it gutter like a five and dime

And when I die the prophecy gonna stay alive

Yeah, and y’all should study all the things that’s written

About the Roman Empire and the Kings of Britain

Merlin exists and manuscripts have been forbidden

And understand that King James is a piece of fiction

My box game like Ant Tarver

I’m no fool, I’m old school like my grandfather

Ain’t nobody take my punch that can stand conscious

Psychologically imbalanced, I’m a man’s conscience

God of the Serengeti

God of the Serengeti

God of the Serengeti

God of the Serengeti

G-O-D of the Serengeti

God of the Serengeti

G-O-D of the Serengeti

God of the Serengeti

G-O-D of the Serengeti

God of the Serengeti