Army Of The Pharaohs - Feast Of The Wolves Lyrics

[Vinnie Paz:]
Yeah... hahaha...
Vinnie P!
Celph Titled, Apathy
Yeah, walk with me!

It's the return of the most f*cking grimy on Earth
It's a funeral in every single line of my verse
Your mind'll just burst, with every line of Solomon's curse
F*ck a hummer, Vinnie Pazienza driving a hearse
It climb to reverse, like the lyrics on a dirty record
I carry thirty weapons, burn you with my .30 Desert
Should learn to accept it, it's a path of destruction
I earn my wage with a 30 H you pass, we'll be buckin'
It's no f*cking discussion, I'm as hard as granite
I hope my vocal will choke you and then orbit the planet
And then cross the Atlantic, Pharaohs is causing a panic
Arms will be brawling with planet, saw us and called the mechanics
My baby girl is a .40 cal (.40 cal)
I used to tell my older brother, "Little shorty, wow" (Shorty wow)
But that was then daddy this is now
You can suck my dick you little f*cking bitch, your block about to bow

[Chorus: Celph Titled]
You better make way, the motherf*cking wolves are back
We back at it like a bad habit, no, we ain't having it
(Tell'em!) You heard we came down
(Smack 'em!) if they make a sound
(NO!) We ain't backing down
(NO!) we ain't repping them
Get 'em? We got 'em
[Onyx:] (Pick 'em up, pick 'em up!)
Shoot 'em? We shot 'em
[Ghostface Killah:] (Understand what I'm saying?)
Get 'em? We got 'em
[Onyx:] (Pick 'em up, pick 'em up!)
Shoot 'em? We shot 'em
[Ghostface Killah:] (Understand what I'm saying?)

[Apathy:]
F*ck around with the Army and get a split wig
Like Santa Claus, bringing gifts to a crips' crib
Cause you're the type that a phony when you try to fight
Hide behind a bouncer and your homies when wild'n right
Nowadays, faggot nerd poets be trying to write
On the mic, looking like a Napoleon Dynamite
The foamiest fall, like foliage when they brawl
Tongue spit black magic, unholiest of all
Like the planets revolve around suns and space
I got plans that involve large guns and waste
I got flows that evolve beyond the human race
Try to spit 'em in your lips or off your tongue and your face
I'm toxic waste, I'm top-secret box lock the safe
I'm blocks with shot cops only dropped in lakes
I'm crack-rock and base with a cosmic taste
To put the fiends into space where the rockets race

[Chorus]

[Celph Titled:]
Yo, is there heaven for a gangster?
No, but there's hell for a faggot
Put on my work outfit, with a belt for my ratchet
You gonna melt when the gats spit, shoot your mother at your funeral
She fell in the casket, how convenient is that shit?
Shoot a flare at my troops, and we letting the gats flame 'em
Put stairs in the booth, and we stepping our rap game up
I'm a boss, but I take orders, from gun exporters
Plus I got a keen sense for sniffing out tape recorders
You a snitch? We'll rape your daughter
And bring her down to the basement to tape record her
Get your best entertainment lawyer, cause we about to extort ya
Fake thug, Tom Sawyer, yeah I saw ya, we'll saw ya
With the Black and Decker, slice savagely
I don't gotta use God's name in vain to get my soldiers to blasphemy
And I won't say I'm the best since Rakim and Pac and them
Better yet, I'm the best since Mozart & Bach and them

[Chorus]