Black Knights, Timbo King, Meko the Pharaoh , Cilvaringz - Woodchuck lyrics

West Coast, West Coast killa Beez

Antlers, hammers and hacksaw, the wizard
Poetry of a man with no name, America
Cement mixer full of boiling ice cream
Holocaust to many
Greet with bloody handshake
Wu Empire and colleagues, luxurious
You torn like tape off football helmets, chip
Four cups of crushed bricks
Half cup of roses
Smoke a green and yellow candycane
Zombies still move through the
Cottage with orange teeth
Pistols still pointed at the floor
Spinal crumbs blood hit's snow and hard
Scooped up in hand fulls
Bathe in the river, the waterfall runs red
Sasquatch, Yeti, battalion with one head
In a lonely place, dollars
Razors and marbles
We break open forearms, Earth the last hour
Out in the tea house playing a hand of spades
Fist full of grenades
Blow out the watch light
Convicts rally at moon set, the last
Flow stay smoggy, old carnival witch hunt
Sideshow freaks, belly dancers and gypsies
One of the wood cutters, village Architect
Eighty-eight sandwiches
Thurmos in a lunch box in a harsh realm
Viewing the emerald butterflies
Flutter diamond moths, both with dusty wings
Bodies lay soaked in a desert
Throats gouged out
Tongues spit out of their heads
I had a purpose
Will you still love me tomorrow? Architect
Will you still love me tomorrow? Holocaust

Royal Famous, blame us yo

My first whip be a Chrysler
So when you see me you say, "Chrys' is comin"
Ice numbin ya neck, throw one of those
Strong notes, Indian pose, flat footed
Yo my back hurts, feel like I'm growing wings
Bless by the Heaven kings
My crown piece seven rings
Money to earn, money to burn
Give some, lend some, take it, fuck it
Be stingy off a stash if you have to
Nigga, what? Flip a pack of if you have to
Cash in, pawn the shit, ya highest bidder
Buy from the streets, cop at wholesale price
Motel models, go tell five oh
Five oh follow the black El Dorado
Who got that real shit niggas blast to
Bitches shake they ass to?
Hit you up with the hood when we pass through
Black Knights, Royal Fam got that hot shit
(Yo) topless in the cockpit of my drop six
In the cockpit of the drop six

Yeah, yo

Give me beats like this I start burnin'
Wack emcees, ya still learnin'
Just like punk cops that rotate on ya block
Millions of people is gonna hear
The North Stars shot
While the worlds rock mental
I hold presidential
Bare essentials, Wu Tang credentials
Makin niggas catch wind chills
When my NS windmill niggas better get real
Even though I stay pissy drunk, bumpin Kurupt
In a red mini van phat tinted
Smokin on that spinach
All funny niggas get printed
I got that Long Beach shit like J bennett
The rest of y'all niggas sound like women
Scared of my sword when it's given
Y'all niggas better stop pretendin
Cuz the words that I speak is deep imprinted
Kill or be killed is what I'm representin
Representin

Yo, yo, check it, yo

As 7 clouds form a storm
I baffle Gabriel the archangel with death
Death to his first born
Earth mourns Wu Killa Beez on the swarm
From the battleship throw darts
That be accurate
We ninjas, we backflip with tactics of antrax
Arise like the novas from earth under canvas
Of the Clan, fist to fist
Kamikaze shock this
Like Nazi documents Apache
Helicopters strike down
Near the bunker of the Glocksmiths
Shop the Dirty Weaponry, Tecs from the 70's
Gone With the Wind, I slung mines within
My men tackle dikes with the 7 deadly dicks
Neglect my covenant
My government enslaves you to my
Hall of Double Justice and
Bloodstains your judgement
So prepare to be slain by the truth
It's Blood for Blood When All
Hell Breaks Loose son

Wu Tang Killa Beez from Shaolin, Europe
Black Knights, Royal Fam
It's Cilvaringz, one