Battle Cry (Clean) Lyrics

Army Of The Pharaohs

Army Of The Pharaohs - Battle Cry (Clean) Lyrics

Hahahaha...
Yeah, muthafuckas! We're back!
Pharaoh clique, muthafucka! Yeah!
Des Devious! (King Syze!)
Vinnie P.! Outerspace!
7L, ES!

I put you up on the IV, not the Roman Numeral 4
But the IV that leads to the funeral floor
Wax gets melted, breaks bones, fractures pelvics
Speeds through space and cracks blast astronaut helmets
Face it, muthafucka I could pay to get rid of you
I got more heads in the hood than pagan rituals
A new tyrannical force for you to fear
Known to kill and keep human ears as souvenirs
A shape shifter, face slitter, paper getter
Take your sister, rape your sister
Make your sister take it in the face
And if you're facin' us, block off a 30-block radius
I throw more blows than boxin' Dr. Octavius

Ever since we made some noise I learned people love a winner
We the quality of deep dish rims, y'all the hub spinners
Tough sinners, break bread with Jesus at dinner
Protected by a heavenly force, fuck a minister
Niggas know better, no one's letter is better than mine
Every time I rhyme, it's metal, the terror level is high
Plus I testify, it's best you die
Than to find the truth deep down in a mountain of lies
Down Syze, I'm ousting you guys deep in the dirt
Clockin' in and out of rap, have y'all fiendin' for work
When I breed it, yo it's treason what the semen is worth
Non-believin', make me steamin', make you meetin' the earth

Aiyyo it's my world, and I wont stop
And if you stand in my way, you bound to get popped
In the land where you lay, and fade from straight shots
I demand that you pay and stray from straight blocks
I'm the man that you pray, don't spray the flames hot
I could tan in the blaze for days and stain cops
I astound and amaze, y'all praise the same god
I'ma pound out your brain and scrape the graveyard
Have you shout out in pain, y'all say y'all bravehearts
I'm a box up your frame and play the same card
And I'm out for fame, spacebars and quasars
Pharaohs locked the game, no shame, we hate y'all

Yeah! Raw muthafuckin rap! Hardcore shit! Ninety-four shit!
Shoot the fuckin' place up! Yeah!

AOTP, blast through your army fatigues
Damage your team, competition done it with ease
Gun in my sleeve cause nowadays, homicide is my steez
Collectin' my cream, I'm livin' your dream and peepin' your scheme
Put you on lean from right hooks, pausin' your jux
You fake crooks need to hit them books
Learn the rules of the game
Two to your brain, three to your frame, incredible pain
You gettin' drenched in that November rain
We the opposite of that wack shit
Trash man of clap rappin', you die tragic
Five six professional assassins
Rockin' these mics and reppin' my fam' with passion
Remember its Q-Dement', you bastards

Tell your man and your parents we be demandin' ten grand an appearance
At a minimum my venom damage your lyrics
We be like Manny Ramirez, comes out at fall
With the radical, magical, and emphatical
I'ma battle 'till I shatter your clavicle
Call me admiral, raisin' the temp of the room
I'm the emperor, remember I never surrender, I dismember platoons
Your petty men are buffoons
We send 'em to their doom the second my venom enters their wounds
I mentally bloom, exhume tombs with dope lyrics
Tupac's alive and well, Big L 'The Devil's Son'
Rise from hell with dope lyrics
Live in regret, AOTP these shook rappers hit the deck

Courtesy of the streets, make it a microphone Middle East
My specialty, only rhymer envelopin' my lyric sheets
Knock turbans off of Sheiks, use a pipe bomb
Downtown Israeli boutiques full of dead tourists
With they dreams no longer in arms reach
That's what I call dealin' with calm speech
When I alarm your peeps
Inscribed in a peasant's palm is a blessed psalm
If you draw and your weapons wrong, there ain't no steppin' on
My forty five is my weapon
My culture's a holstered with seven inch slugs is kept in
Squarely I step in, tiltin' my clips and blue Stesson
God is my essence, and you could check these rhymes for reference
adapt to any preference, pussy

Yeah baby, kings of the muthafuckin' underground!
Y'all motherfuckers don't want it with us! This that raw shit, throw back shit!

I make Evil Knievel music, I come through stuntin'
Every verse is the same, just flipped a little somethin' somethin'
Baby I'm crazy, a crazy baby, a sick infant
Born with intent to spit slick sentences with sick penmanship
Shoot at your Chicago fitted and knock your socks/Sox off
Aimed at your door but hit your head, shot your locks off
I heard you was afraid to say my name on your record
'Cause you's afraid I'd put your muthafuckin' frame on a stretcher
I can't change laws son, that's a government issue
But I'll break laws with a gun, it's a government issue
It's the Army, we got power in numbers
And that's nines, .45's, .357's, and M-500s

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