Louis Logic - Ready For War lyrics
[Louis Logic - Ready For War lyrics]
Everybody know what I’m saying
From here to the Himalayan
Charlie Bawles, Louis Logic & Mister Jason
Yo, I slay kids off the head
Bang chicks on kegs
Always stay spitting flames
Repping Cambridge till I’m dead
My language is that of a cat that’s paid dues
Drank too many brews and got shanked in ‘92
Now I rhyme for dudes that can’t
Comprehend what I been through
Try to live their lives through the
Things that my pen do
Mental too strong to get distracted by thongs
I rap to a song and burn
Y’all like hash in a bong
Thrashing a Fonz wannabee, thinking they cool
Reach for the tool to show
Y’all I’m lethal to crews
I’m a teacher to fools, speak rules
Slang hard
Lame squads try to sell their soul
Then blame God
When the gang's barred from my
Inner circle of folks treated like Urkel
Purple while I’m jerking your throat
Always got a verse you can quote
Show my true colors
Charlie Bawles, Skitzofreniks, Emcees?
Brew Brothers, mother-what?
(A one) run ya gums, y’all can all get done
(A two)
Coming through, it’s the Brothers of Brew
(A three) with Mr jason banging the beat
(A four) charlie Bawles comes ready for war
What y’all want, an apology?
For the way I swat emcees stopping me
On the street so they can drop a free
From stinking like they snacking
On some rotten cheese
And eating shit sandwiches
The only way you’ll be
Rapping is with bandages
My fist damages retards and
Split's your face in
When I sit and wait in the bushes
By your crib with Mister Jason
Sipping straight gin
Smart niggas drink hard liquor
Our scriptures can’t be reproduced
Like dark pictures another Louis Logic and
Charlie Bawles mixture
That makes your sweet squad’s tickers
Race and be far quicker
The hard-hitters that spar with ya
Like jail yard niggas
And scar figures like a shark bit-cha
And leave y’all sicker than a
Dinner date with Adolf Hitler
Step up in your face and start wit-cha
Cause when I orchestrate an awful way
To scar your face with razors
It’s beautiful
Like them large lips on dark sisters
(A one)
Running your guns and your onion gets lumped
(A two)
It’s Louis Logic with the Brothers of Brew
(A three)
Mister Jason puts the heat to the beat
(A four)
Sword draws for y’all who ain’t ready for war
I never waste time on whores, I straight bone
Don’t even work for dimes no more
Like pay phones i break bones, shake zones
Stomp all you fake clones
Got a mental bank full of poems
Y’all should take loans
Snakes roam through the grass
Pursuing the cash me and Louis make tracks
That’ll ruin they staff
Got Harmon Killebrew in the back
Banging the drum sticks
Next to the accomplice, we bomb kids
Who wants it?
Honest to God, I promised your squad
That my worst verse would burst
Like bombs in Riyadh
Disperse shards and spray
A supernova of Chardonnay
That may land you a thousand yards away
So it’s smart to stay indoors and seek refuge
One punch from a fist, one lump from a kick
And a bottle to your nogging f
You’re not pumping my shit
From here to the Himalayan
Charlie Bawles, Louis Logic & Mister Jason
Yo, I slay kids off the head
Bang chicks on kegs
Always stay spitting flames
Repping Cambridge till I’m dead
My language is that of a cat that’s paid dues
Drank too many brews and got shanked in ‘92
Now I rhyme for dudes that can’t
Comprehend what I been through
Try to live their lives through the
Things that my pen do
Mental too strong to get distracted by thongs
I rap to a song and burn
Y’all like hash in a bong
Thrashing a Fonz wannabee, thinking they cool
Reach for the tool to show
Y’all I’m lethal to crews
I’m a teacher to fools, speak rules
Slang hard
Lame squads try to sell their soul
Then blame God
When the gang's barred from my
Inner circle of folks treated like Urkel
Purple while I’m jerking your throat
Always got a verse you can quote
Show my true colors
Charlie Bawles, Skitzofreniks, Emcees?
Brew Brothers, mother-what?
(A one) run ya gums, y’all can all get done
(A two)
Coming through, it’s the Brothers of Brew
(A three) with Mr jason banging the beat
(A four) charlie Bawles comes ready for war
What y’all want, an apology?
For the way I swat emcees stopping me
On the street so they can drop a free
From stinking like they snacking
On some rotten cheese
And eating shit sandwiches
The only way you’ll be
Rapping is with bandages
My fist damages retards and
Split's your face in
When I sit and wait in the bushes
By your crib with Mister Jason
Sipping straight gin
Smart niggas drink hard liquor
Our scriptures can’t be reproduced
Like dark pictures another Louis Logic and
Charlie Bawles mixture
That makes your sweet squad’s tickers
Race and be far quicker
The hard-hitters that spar with ya
Like jail yard niggas
And scar figures like a shark bit-cha
And leave y’all sicker than a
Dinner date with Adolf Hitler
Step up in your face and start wit-cha
Cause when I orchestrate an awful way
To scar your face with razors
It’s beautiful
Like them large lips on dark sisters
(A one)
Running your guns and your onion gets lumped
(A two)
It’s Louis Logic with the Brothers of Brew
(A three)
Mister Jason puts the heat to the beat
(A four)
Sword draws for y’all who ain’t ready for war
I never waste time on whores, I straight bone
Don’t even work for dimes no more
Like pay phones i break bones, shake zones
Stomp all you fake clones
Got a mental bank full of poems
Y’all should take loans
Snakes roam through the grass
Pursuing the cash me and Louis make tracks
That’ll ruin they staff
Got Harmon Killebrew in the back
Banging the drum sticks
Next to the accomplice, we bomb kids
Who wants it?
Honest to God, I promised your squad
That my worst verse would burst
Like bombs in Riyadh
Disperse shards and spray
A supernova of Chardonnay
That may land you a thousand yards away
So it’s smart to stay indoors and seek refuge
One punch from a fist, one lump from a kick
And a bottle to your nogging f
You’re not pumping my shit