Army of the Pharaohs - Black Christmas lyrics

Put me in the booth and
I'll brodie your wave files
You still getting booed at the
Open mic like 8 Mile
You still actin' like spoken word is serious
I laugh at you fag-niggas with
Dyed hair and pierced lips
What kinda nigga from the hood is you?
I could name fifty niggas that's
As good as you
But a nigga like Plan man I'm
Better than all of 'em i make em quit
Now their baby moms' is callin' for em
Askin me where they baby pop at
That nigga he at the sink
Cleanin' my White Sox hat, bitch!
I tell em call you back in a minute
Cause when he finish he gotta
Brush my dunks so vintage
I'm in this rap game for the spinach
My food-for-thought is like serving


Fresh lettuce to niggas
I'm the chef and I'm cooking up Def Jams
Broad street bully cut the
Check for ten grand

I made a promise that I never get high
I ain't scared of death
I'm scared to live wantin' to die
Cause the one-twenty opened my eyes
The Koran molded me
The Bible told me what's a disguise
But, I broke lights like they
Need to be fixed
And had a thought pattern process
That D and B's rich but, the block chirped
Hid work in the trash-can
I rip a nigga off and lay low in the badlands
(Let me get that, nigga)
Stay bent off of what poppy done sold me
We all forced to hold heat
Smokin the gold tree
So knowledge knowledge till
The seven-fifteen-four
Vinnie Paz, Planetary, Reef the Lost Cauze
Kamach, my nigga Crypt and Demoz
Apathy, Celph Titled and King Syze
We all 'bout to put this game in a frenzy
And the chain's slight frost like
The air in the Benzy

I can feel a breeze through the
Leaves when D's passin' me by
You can breathe you can bleed but please
Wrap me a nine on Black Christmas
I need a gun with bullets on black Christmas
Black Christmas nigga look at me little B
My peeps askin' me why i'm a G this is me
So please wrap me a nine on black Christmas
I need a gun with bullets on black Christmas
Black Christmas

Yeah, yo, it's incredible the most
How a nigga flow just come so easy
Child's play to me home boy
Please believe me the way I formulate on
Time with metaphors, lines, and punchlines?
Sometimes the shit amaze me
Fall back with a spliff and admire my shit
Don't need you, got enough people on my dick
I speed through
Breathe life on a track so slick
With sick shit
Time's money so I must move quick
Epitome of rap
Never been clapped never been slapped up
Just one time, cold winter day in '79
I catch that guy
And I'ma beat him till my arm's numb
And stomp him like Lars did that drum on one
Motherfucka!

I once heard The Art of War
Is don't start a war
So I don't think you wanna
Ride like a carnivore i mean carnival
Excuse my French I'm on the floor
The blues and wet got me feelin'
Like I took a hallucinate
Blue is bent, L-Y who the truest yet
Blew the inf
Brain fragments flyin' through the fence
Stupid is as stupid does
I ain't stupid cause
I rap like a motherfuckin'
Animal my blueish blood never spills
I wrap my hand around the bluest steel
Blew his grill like Foreman informants
Know who I kill ill, now get outta my face
Sorry officer, me no hablo ingles
Let me offer you, food for thought on a plate
Once you know the block hot
You hit the fire escape
Get in get out, hit liars and snakes
Your birthday the only day you
Rely on the cake nigga!
I can feel a breeze through the
Leaves when D's passin' me by
You can breathe you can bleed but please
Wrap me a nine on Black Christmas
I need a Gun with bullets on black Christmas
Black Christmas nigga look at me little B
My peeps askin' me why i'm a G this is me
So please wrap me a nine on black Christmas
I need a gun with bullets on black Christmas
Black Christmas

Army of TP, honor of street thieves
The harmony of harm done to a beast-beat
I execute from hook to hook like a nice jab
And pain from pushers squeeze
Like my wife's hand
Slight tan, my homie Muslim like Fife's man
Pillow of kush
As if the kush is my life span
My product slip through the right
Hands like white sand
Those I kill for, can count on my right hand
Beef handled like blades in knife factories
Cut coke, cut bum niggas like nutso
This ain't a movie clip
It's a jewelry stick ever see me runnin'
You'll have to be like, "Who'd he hit?"
You knew he Vic, shit, still trusted him
Know a lotta robbers from bids
Still fuck wit them
That don't mean they up in my crib
I'm still hustlin'
Anniversary nine-elven we still suffering!

I'm a motherfuckin' monster
Everything I'm spittin' is all real
Take a good look in my
Trunk and it's all steel (yeah)
Ain't nobody in control it's Allah's will
The other trunk ain't filled with diesel
It's all krill
Arm leg leg arm head when the gods build
You the first devil with a
Plate when the hog's killed
You the first one to run from the war
You the first one to run from
Vinnie's gun when it draw (Brat, brat)
I left your whole team deaf when I spoke
Then I put your whole entire
Fuckin set in the yolk
Yeah, we ain't the motherfuckin
Set to provoke
Or else the last thing you see
The fuckin deck of a boat! Brat, brat!
Hahaha!