Текст песни Prince Paul f Horror City - War Party
Prince Paul f Horror City - War Party слова песни
I`m that dope up in your brain with syringesComin through, kickin doors off the fuckin hingesI`m in this, like forty fiends on seven day bingesComin with my felony offenders, drinkin GuinnessThe slender of a never ending back benderMy agenda be the legal tender, blue fox in the winterSay it with me, yes, mad style in the streetsBitches that be blowin up my hip with mad beepsMurder me? You musta never fuckin heard of meI get thank you letters from emergency for fillin vacanciesAnd don`t even mention surgery, because they awarded meFor bein the man to do the most abuse to industryInjure me, see the evil spirits enter meLarry Single-tary, now who majesty, an entity (uuhhhh!)If I cut you do you not bleedIf I bust up in a guts, you should not bear seed that resemble meI hear the sound of dope fiends` screamsIt`s gotta mean somebody`s scheme, on the stash againI`m spittin hollow points like phlegmI`d probably bring a friend but these days I`m driftin off into galaxiesFeel the sea breeze throughout vicinities, eeaaaww!!While prophecies that kick the sky splitsOmigod, droppin clips is this the end?Forever I`ll be never injured, why because the devil had me shookI`m shakin, this evil spirits takin flesh is bakin inHere`s a, special delivery, of the pain and miseryCan you maintain it? The degrees of temperature can be causedI`m the guy that pulls the wool over your eyes, and moveat war speeds, do 45`s in the skies, and beWhatever y`all call that, that bridges the gapAnd in suspended animation and reality rapPicture like Kodak, and wax flows clean as KojakAnd you know that, all front row wigs get blown backDeacon, comin up the rear with the wickedTwo felony convicted, Colin FergusonMurderin, open up your guts kid, what?I`m diesel like three fifty, woke up with mad cutsand don`t give a fuckI snatch the soul out your back, so how you figureYou could hold your fuckin own, you`re a cloneAlone in the world, know I tend to beOnce a friend of me, now we`re known as bitter enemiesCheck it, check itWe charge up like a nine volt, drama beefYou better hold I pack a 45 Colt with a mad kickCause when I lit, the ho`s got snitchYou better duck quick before you get your shirls knicked splitI blaze knock this one, it`s on it`s on, for realsSteel pull out, call my bluff, a nigga fade to searIn a second or a minute I reckon I be in itFull-on flanks for high banks, tanks ???Enough of this S and MThem leather wearin bitches whippin menFrom a corner of a dead end, I can`t forget my dead friendsAnd that`s what makes my brain sporadicPlus I got a bad habit, of mixin alcohol with automaticsWho got static? I came to set it off and get this party startedThose who provoke, is gettin choked, I aint no fuckin jokeMy friends won`t go anywhere with me, anyone in the vicinitiyCharged with conspiracy get death by electricityNiggas get confused, not knowin what I`ma doI sit and wait for niggas to make an ill-advised moveI save the way that could be from here to thereBustin shots, some secluded spots you don`t know whereSo where art thou, where art thouTalkin about your dead family members, pal, don`t fuck aroundOr for cryin out loud, tellin` you now from Jump StreetWhoever steps up I`m leavin them bleedin` profusely