Agony Fires Lyrics - Army Of The Pharaohs: The Unholy Terror - Jedi Mind Tricks

"Monsieur le juge, ce cahier contient des notes rédigées... J'attire votre attention sur les changements spectaculaires de style d'écriture, de ton et de point de vue. Ce que vous avez sous les yeux, ce sont les pensées intimes de plusieurs personnalités différentes. Si vous me permettez, quelques explications... merci" 

I lick a shot in the sky 

A war don, you're gone cousin, Optimus Prime 

You a bitch, one of 700 Solomon's wives 

I was in Constantinople during Ottoman's shine 

My Glock is a nine 

My thirty-eight Wesson a beautiful bitch 

You rhyme like a ho, find a more suitable pitch 

You bout to find out why German Lugers exist 

Dig a hole, bury yourself, beautiful ditch 

It ain't a single man living could fuck with the beast 

Gay rapper, altar boy you fuckin' a priest 

Fuck a cop, dirty pig we buckin' police 

Dirt bag can't make money, he stuck in the streets 

Related 

27 Best Ever Songs From Movie Soundtracks 

Watch Cardi B Joins James Corden For Carpool Karaoke 

Ariana Grande Adds Her Own Verse To "Last Christmas" 

What you think? I'm sittin' in this cage for nothing? 

If they release me it's curtains, that's why I live in the dungeon 

All black nothin' lit up, I set up walls 

And hang body's that I hit up, can't fit us all 

Warchild got machetes with old blood on the tip 

Paz sittin' with artillery to blow you to bits 

Shit, King Syze with the getaway 

All black UConn, shoes on everyday 

Gun play nowadays more frequent 

More real niggas mad fallin' off the deep end 

And your life depends on me 

I ice out the whole joint and put your men on freeze 

You can start a riot in here, now who's wit me? 

Who the fuck gon' ride when this shit get shifty? 

Where my niggas at? I know who ride wit me 

This Pharaohs shit fo' life, they gon' die right with me 

Photos 

Spur of the moment I could strike with a strategic blow 

I hold the heaters low and ground you up inside a pita roll 

Explosive botanist, obvious that I plant bombs 

I stand out in crowds like I got fluorescent pants on 

Satanic candles lit in my recording room 

I'm makin' hits, singing songs of death in Autotune 

Put a bear-trap on ya ankle 

Drop you off at Foot-Locker 

Mug the manager like, "What the fucks poppin'?!" 

Punks drop it, while I stand tall 

You see me, you seen the greatest rapper, modern man's call 

Electric meat-shaver that's a modern man's saw 

Precision chop limbs after I body slam y'all 

Hand saw, body chopper 

Bloody opera singer, Satan's trigger finger 

Rock the bells in Hell, call me a dead ringer 

Freddy Krueger sweater, rock a Beretta cocker 

I'll dead a copper, head to Czechoslovakia 'fore they spot me 

On security cams 

My maturity shows 

When I take these young rappers and I murder they flows 

Including Weezy's and Jeezy's, if I had a genie 

I'd make major label rappers Ice Cube's and Eazy's 

Monster with the frees when I'm conquering MCs 

I be airin' rappers out, like I'm sponsored by Febreze 

If you stop to get some Z's 

I just haunt you in your dreams 

Smuggle yay from Medellin and vacation in Belize 

Please believe me