Cookin Keys Army of the Pharaohs [MP3/LRC] 下载
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Cookin' Keys (Feat. Doap Nixon, Des Devious, Crypt The Warchild, Demoz, Planetary & Reef The Lost Cauze) - Jedi Mind Tricks
I'm in the kitchen cooking up bananas
Cameras on the roofs with the police scanners
By any means I'm a get these papers
Ride with a ni**a or catch these vapours
Smooth melodic cool water with butters on
Got beef with a ni**a save that for another song
Paz on point so he putting his brothers on
Steez still the same get you murked by a gutter John
Head in the streets cause the whip is spacious
Benz stretched out legs feel like a spaceship
Cheques ain't clear I'm hitting y'all with the facts
If the cheque never came I'd hit your mom and a cap
Got the streets on smash key notes on wax
Hundred pack on iTunes trying to make cream back
Yeah the key's cooked and the bricks is stovetop
It's Chef Boyardee flipping nicks on your whole block
Yeah born in the coldest winter live and I die a sinner
And while I'm here I'm hustling get paper with my niggas
Last of a dying breed Pharaoh clique in your section
Before I leave my rest kiss my wiz load my weapon
Yeah that's my right hand man that fifty cal chrome
Off safety when I roam I ain't never alone
Won't catch a ni**a slipping won't catch a ni**a dipping
Cause I done mastered my high you out your mind tripping
Yeah you can come and try won't be the smartest move
My b**ch pull the hammer make it do what it do
Hustler a son of one b**ch I'm a son of one
My money it got right copped me another gun
These punk b**ches get the boat zak the gas face
I feel like Earnhardt in his last race
This last lap in this game I'm a hit the throttle
Syze we celebrate new life hit this bottle
Plan I think the situation's getting hairy
We make them say the
Our
Father and their Hail Mary
Scary how niggas turn Judas no trust
I take it back to 5-6 when it was only us
Snakes slither in the grass in the killing field
So I manoeuvre through them by sitting in a bigger wheel
You's a small time hustler I'm a bigger deal
And that sh*t you spit will be the sh*t that get you killed
Ready for war I'm in it for the long haul
Throwing a molotov sidearm
Yeah holding my fort with my pipes drawn
I kill everything when this mic's on believe it
Yo f-u-c-k-f-b-I cops you niggas don't like my sh*t
I tell them niggas suck a dirty dick with gonorrhea on the tip
I'm getting money courtesy of your b**ch
Ni**a it's the Army Of The Pharaohs we hood American
Idols
You don't like us
You can suck my dick
I got a long rope and an oxy if you feeling suicidal
See that window
Hop out that b**ch
Ni**a think you can ease it then be it but see me not
I'm too heated and weeded to lose it so please be hot
They just fiending to be the most conceited team on the top
I'm leaning to be the most meanest as
Biggie and
Pac
Man these demons is dreaming for their spot
It's easy to see they just want to be me cause I'm hot
So f**k my theme and my plot smoking w**d in your
And fall dummy to that casket cause they eat at you pop
You can believe it or not I done sold w**d to a cop
Caught a case banged it
And ran back to the fiends on my block
Fiends on my block that's logical my flow is phenomenal
I put a couple dots on your block like dominoes
Red beaming them I stay with my team and them
I keep four nines in the tuck like Steve and them
This my track a diss like that
Cause when you shoot like a freethrow you miss like
Shaq
I'm from Killadel county the killers they all surround me
I'm losing my ni**a slowly
Poppa Large make him proud of me
If you see
Nemi then tell your people to see me
I'm here for the take
And holding these streets down believe me
My ni**a Balo I know your halo is platinum
I'm a see you at the gates I'll be rocking something ravishing
The
Seven
Sacraments made for the sacrificial
The baptismal of rap bristle to sacramental
My rap essentials is murder tracks and pencils
Gat utensils is only used for niggas acting simple
My syllable slice niggas like a caesarean
You killable right I spit bars like a barbarian
I never thought I'd see the day
Hip hop would give birth to faggots
Mr T mohawks and
Urkel glasses
I'm from a hood where they rob cool kids
And I can't wear skinny jeans cause my
Glock's too big
Yeah I got the wildest style death bears a childish smile
Beat you with soap in a sock you a
Private
Pyle
I'm fear order from green onions I peel quarters
What's rap I bump
Foghat and
Creedence
Clear water
Bad moon rising I'm howling at the b**ch
Haters baffled how he spent a thousand on the kicks
I get thousands just to spit f**k all the drama sh*t
I don't make statements get bank statements and deposit slips
And it's always gonna be this way
C-notes like study hall in tenth grade
To this day I f**k b**ches and get paid
What's piff I got the green monster like Fenway
Yo f-u-c-k-f-b-I cops you niggas don't like my sh*t
I tell them niggas suck a dirty dick with gonorrhea on the tip
I'm getting money courtesy of your b**ch
Ni**a it's the
Army
Of
The
Pharaohs we hood American
Idols
You don't like us
You can suck my dick
I got a long rope and an oxy if you feeling suicidal
See that window
Hop out that b**ch