Ripped To Shreds Lyrics - Army Of The Pharaohs: The Unholy Terror - Jedi Mind Tricks

I'm coming to your classroom strapped like Kindergarten Cop 

(I) End the starters (I) Am the hardest artist to rock 

(I) Roll over your whip and turn your strip into a horror scene 

When the hammer bust we start a war 

We carnivores that need to eat 

Ain't running from shit bitch we ain't scared 

You ain't gonna disrespect a vet 

With a chopper that (got shell catchers) 

Won't be no ballistic check 

I get the check, I get the dough 

Goddamnit I be the shit fo sho' 

Celph Titled in the motherfuckin' spot 

Motherfuckers get shot, motherfuckers gon' hit the floor 

When my above the margin thugs are barging in 

Your whole parliament turn butter soft like tubs of margarine 

Awesome arson with a large carbon cartridge sparking 

Often involved in carving apart kids in they apartment and 

You can't see me from this angle (True) 

But the torch on my arm will show you what a four alarm blaze will do 

The Cuban-Caucasian dude, lacerations from Sabretooth 

My bitches hold guns like Sarah Palin in a bathing suit 

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Light a candle in the snow fuck a Christmas carol 

You can kill a Cambodian can't kill a pharaoh 

Kill a African Spanish nigga your fucking niece 

Kill a president, terrorist, kill a fucking priest 

Your momma, your father, your sister, and your right hand 

Kill a hustler, customer, kill a white man 

See the moral of the story is you can spit ammo at anybody 

Kill yourself but not a fucking pharaoh 

Believe you not in the league 

And obviously you blind to see 

You not in the league 

You bi wannabe on wine back 

Are you high on the E? 

I - move like Mohammed Ali, Why? 

Test me, you won't want to be my 

Food for thought, who woulda thought? 

I woulda been something you woulda bought 

Cause you woulda thought 

I woulda been 

Too perked up to prove it again 

Too perked up to lose it again 

Man these two presh got me moving my pen 

And I ain't rolling around 

Shot in his head lay a hole in the ground 

I ain't gotta wait my moment is now 

Why gotta hate I'm the flow of the town 

I ain't gotta fake like I'm holding the pound 

I ain't got eight I got four in the round 

Get shot when the hot trey Glock and it cock and it pop 

Sure enough to aim for all you clowns (All you clowns) 

Call the coroner now 

I ain't trying to stop till I'm ninety and sick 

Die like Bonnie and Clyde in the whip 

Flows so sick it reminds you of shit 

Don't know shit when the coppers around 

I ain't never seen Jay copping the pound 

I ain't never seen Vinnie drivin' Crown Victoria Ford 

At the scene of a homicide case 

With a look on his face like fuck you now 

Fuck him, fuck her, you can hate me now 

I'mma keep on blowing till they break me down 

I'mma keep on spitting till they take me down 

Photos 

I'm hesitant to meet people 

I have a tendency to eat people 

My team feeds you the priest on the discreet steeple 

I don't listen to anything you perceive legal 

Turn a Christian to anything you would deem evil 

Left with holes is how the sub machine leave you 

Small and precise, like you was poked with clean needles 

I don't drag my brother into it cause he's peaceful 

But Vinnie takes a lot of shots like Japanese people 

In fact I take a lot of shots like Kobe does 

I don't smoke the rock anymore but the homie does 

Stoupe the first mother fucker to show me drugs 

And how to keep the motherfuckers safe in the Folgers mug 

You a bitch, you don't do what a soldier does 

If I was you I'd move into the left like Miss Hova does 

Peace to everybody living that shows me love 

And anybody hating on the god you can hold your slug