billy woods - Undeclared Wars lyrics
[billy woods - Undeclared Wars lyrics]
We in the Backwoodz Studioz twisting
Up buds and woods
We in the Backwoodz Studioz twisting
Up buds and woods
We in the Backwoodz Studioz twisting
Up buds and woods
Rappers with beauty pageants drop
Tapes like Bin Laden
Look at these rappers like beauty pageant
Drop tapes like Bin Laden
Drop tapes like Bin Laden, NSAs and attaches
Let the cast hit play
Everything is politics, dirty tricks
Military industrial cliques
Reveal the triple-six
Guess what it’s all fixed
Like WWF playing chess, blacks versus whites
Rich and poor undeclared wars
Chickens come home to roost
Two dutches one loose, red handlings
Wild geese, cops off the leash, no peace
Them is the poems in the cemetery
Molesters in the seminary babylon got weary
So my appearance very merry
Off the ships could bury
Got a little house on the prairie
Smell the roses, pop the cherry
Smash through the looking glass
Cheshire Cat off the hat
Smack ‘em fast with a bottle of sour
Maps, flags at half mast
Come through with air fast
Crush your supporting cast
High in the friendly skies
Tight guys crack wising, kevlar suit & tie
Take names like the court clerk
Shots bust like stenography
Gunman’s in staccato
Mulatto vatos playing straight shot lotto
Congrats, and todays grand prize
Won a slave of the month
Gentlemen ready your blunts
We the Backwoodz Studioz twisting
Up buds and woods
From hoods where young ones snatching goods
And everyone acting fool, we just can’t live
Travel road, bruise blacks with blues
We’d rather ravage crews
Instead of losing they clapping too
We been through it
For freestyle in cold winters on corners
Til mom flipping, sick of the warrants
Have the cops
At your door, four in the morning
But I ain’t even at my mom’s
Crib, somewhere else waking up yawning
Mind’s whirling
From last night got high as a
Trying to get by with
Our little bit of bucks, living in the slums
But locked
In the belly of the beast, gotta hold yours
Like steady them beats, we humble
Wide heads had they cakes
Living in the belly of the beast, gotta
Hold yours like steady and release, we humble
Wild heads have they cake and eat
We got a gun
Just a piece and there ain’t no peace
Til they take away the
Murderers and brutalities of police
Til then I’mma watch for the slow leak
And hold heat
Forever rap this music for my soul’s peace
Hired on the western front, civil war
We gon’ leave rappers with stumps
Your frown got fat like they clumps
Black might take your queen in two jumps
We did the hump, rival crew best prepare
For mechanized warfare
We do it in the trenches
Lieutenant corporal of the benches
Thinking it’s about weed and
Bare shit's and giggles
We playing fiddles with smoke over Rome
Pull you from the throne, sic semper tyrannis
Rap monarchy madness
Looking like Michael trying to be the baddest
Shit just looked comical
Like a fat bitch with the monocle
My rap book the chronicle
Spliff geometry conical
Against the grain with Dutch strains tropical
If niggas only knew, I be more broke than you
Just smoke better
But fuck it I autograph with
That letter, to me it’s whatever, we can go
Paper-view at the Staple center
Madison Square
Or the Gobi Desert, get your crew together
But you gon’ need to be more than just clever
All blues is is mo’ better
Sung through stormy weather
Up buds and woods
We in the Backwoodz Studioz twisting
Up buds and woods
We in the Backwoodz Studioz twisting
Up buds and woods
Rappers with beauty pageants drop
Tapes like Bin Laden
Look at these rappers like beauty pageant
Drop tapes like Bin Laden
Drop tapes like Bin Laden, NSAs and attaches
Let the cast hit play
Everything is politics, dirty tricks
Military industrial cliques
Reveal the triple-six
Guess what it’s all fixed
Like WWF playing chess, blacks versus whites
Rich and poor undeclared wars
Chickens come home to roost
Two dutches one loose, red handlings
Wild geese, cops off the leash, no peace
Them is the poems in the cemetery
Molesters in the seminary babylon got weary
So my appearance very merry
Off the ships could bury
Got a little house on the prairie
Smell the roses, pop the cherry
Smash through the looking glass
Cheshire Cat off the hat
Smack ‘em fast with a bottle of sour
Maps, flags at half mast
Come through with air fast
Crush your supporting cast
High in the friendly skies
Tight guys crack wising, kevlar suit & tie
Take names like the court clerk
Shots bust like stenography
Gunman’s in staccato
Mulatto vatos playing straight shot lotto
Congrats, and todays grand prize
Won a slave of the month
Gentlemen ready your blunts
We the Backwoodz Studioz twisting
Up buds and woods
From hoods where young ones snatching goods
And everyone acting fool, we just can’t live
Travel road, bruise blacks with blues
We’d rather ravage crews
Instead of losing they clapping too
We been through it
For freestyle in cold winters on corners
Til mom flipping, sick of the warrants
Have the cops
At your door, four in the morning
But I ain’t even at my mom’s
Crib, somewhere else waking up yawning
Mind’s whirling
From last night got high as a
Trying to get by with
Our little bit of bucks, living in the slums
But locked
In the belly of the beast, gotta hold yours
Like steady them beats, we humble
Wide heads had they cakes
Living in the belly of the beast, gotta
Hold yours like steady and release, we humble
Wild heads have they cake and eat
We got a gun
Just a piece and there ain’t no peace
Til they take away the
Murderers and brutalities of police
Til then I’mma watch for the slow leak
And hold heat
Forever rap this music for my soul’s peace
Hired on the western front, civil war
We gon’ leave rappers with stumps
Your frown got fat like they clumps
Black might take your queen in two jumps
We did the hump, rival crew best prepare
For mechanized warfare
We do it in the trenches
Lieutenant corporal of the benches
Thinking it’s about weed and
Bare shit's and giggles
We playing fiddles with smoke over Rome
Pull you from the throne, sic semper tyrannis
Rap monarchy madness
Looking like Michael trying to be the baddest
Shit just looked comical
Like a fat bitch with the monocle
My rap book the chronicle
Spliff geometry conical
Against the grain with Dutch strains tropical
If niggas only knew, I be more broke than you
Just smoke better
But fuck it I autograph with
That letter, to me it’s whatever, we can go
Paper-view at the Staple center
Madison Square
Or the Gobi Desert, get your crew together
But you gon’ need to be more than just clever
All blues is is mo’ better
Sung through stormy weather