Army of the Pharaohs - Battle Cry lyrics

Ha ha ha ha yeah, motherfuckers!
We're back! Pharaoh clique, motherfucker!
Yeah! Des Devious! (King Syze)
Apathy! Celph Titled! (Kamachi)
Vinnie P! Outerspace! 7LES!

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
Glass Astronaut helmets face it
Motherfucker I could pay to get rid of you!
I've 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
Tape your sister


Wake your sister, make your sister
Take it in the face
And if you're facing us
Block off a thirty-block radius
I throw more blows than
Boxing Doctor 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
Then to find the truth deep down
In a mountain of lies
Downsize, I'm ousting you guys
Deep in the dirt clocking in and out of rap
Have y'all fiending for work
When I'm breeding
Yo it's treason what the semen is worth
Non-believing, make me steaming
Make you meeting the earth

Ayo, it's my world and I won't stop
And if you stand in my way
You bound to get popped
In the land where you lay
And fade from stray shots
I demand that you pay and
Stray from strange 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'mma pound out your brain
And scrape the graveyard
Have you shout out in pain
Y'all say y'all Bravehearts?
I'mma box up your frame and
Play the same card
And I'm out for fame, space bars
And quasars
Pharaohs locked the game, no shame
We hate y'all

Yeah! Raw motherfucking rap!
Hardcore shit! '94 shit!
Shoot the fucking place up, yeah!

A-O T-P, blast through your army fatigues
Damage your team
The competition done it with ease
Gun in my sleeve 'cause nowadays
Homicide is my steez collecting my cream
I'm living your dream and
Peeping your scheme
Put you on lean from right hooks
Pausing 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 getting drenched in
That "November Rain"
We the opposite of that wack shit, trash man
The clack rapid you die tragic
Five-six professional assassins
Rocking these mics and repping
My fam with passion
Remember it's Q-Dement', you bastards!

Tell your man and your parents
We be demanding ten grand an appearance
At the minimum, my venom damage your lyrics
We be like Manny Ramirez
Compatible with the radical
Magical and emphatical
I'ma battle 'til I shatter your clavicle
Call me admiral, raising the temp of the room
I'm the emperor
Remember I'll 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
2Pac is alive and well
Big L "The Devil's Son"
Rise from hell with dope lyrics
Live in regret
A-O T-P these shook rappers hit the deck

Courtesy of the streets
Make it a microphone Middle East
My specialty
Only rhymer enveloping my lyric sheets
Knock turbans off of sheikhs, use a pipe bomb
Downtown Israeli boutiques
Full of dead tourists
With they dreams no longer in arms' reach
That's what I call
Dealing 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 stepping on
My forty-five is my weapon
My culture's a holster
Where seven-inch slugs is kept in
Squarely I step in
Tilting my clips and blue Stetson
God is my essence
So you could check these rhymes for
Reference, adept to any preference, pussy!

Yeah, baby!
Kings of the motherfucking underground!
Y'all motherfuckers don't want it with us!
This that raw shit! Throwback shit!

I make Evel Knievel music
I come through stunting
Every verse is the same
Just flipped a little something-something
Baby, I'm crazy, a crazy baby, a sick infant
Born with an intent to spit
Slick sentences with sick penmanship
Shoot at your Chicago fitted and
Knock your socks 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
Motherfucking frame on a stretcher
I can't change laws son
That's a government issue
But I'll break laws with a
Gun that's a government issue
It's the Army, we got power in numbers
And that's nines
Forty-fives, three-five-sevens, and M-500s

Some people say I'm superior when I shit it
Vivid visionary spit, vocabulary ridiculous
I am a tyrant, I'm Violent by Design
I silence the scientific with every
Line of the rhyme
Mozart of street rap, breaking the barriers
Space Harrier
Filled with forties and pit terriers
Ready to mangle, anybody cross a line
I saw the sign then ran with the Army
Lost in time
Ready for war, but won't rock no dick trees
I rock mics
You think it's a hundred and sixty degrees
Who stomp crews, batter and bruise cliques
Kill bitches and stab you tricks
With loose lips

I'm slightly disturbed
Pazienza is nice with the words
That's the reason that I'm fly
Like the life of a bird
I don't care if you dead, let God have ya
'Cause I'mma stay rugged and
Raw like Marv Hagler
That's something you don't know
About you small rapper
Nice with the left, nice with the right
The jaw tapper
Allah backer, murder every track that I'm on
You just spit a fucking verse wack
Then you gone
Fuck fame, I studied the fame closely
They build you up
Then you get rocked like Shane Mosley
It's pain, homie, and your blood in my pen
It's Army of the Pharaohs and
We flooded with gems

The Torture motherfucking Papers!
Dead Sea Scrolls out here!
Y'all don't want it!
It's fucking raw rap! A-O T-P!