Fed to the Lions - Army of the Pharaohs, Vinnie Paz, Celph Titled

Boxcutter Pazzy alias Lucifer’s friend

Yahweh Ben Yahweh loosen the pen

I shoot it before I’m not against shooting again

I’m through with you buls, you not ever moving again

Y’all are bus riders, hoppin' the deuce to the ten

Vinnie a carnivore y’all is arugula fem

Mecca Medina followed by Jerusalem then

I’m a gorilla from the Biblical zoo with the pen

Kool G, Moe Dee, I’m a fusion of them

The physical manifestation of music from them

Pill bottles, Grey Goose and hallucinogens

The MC decapitated no uses for them

Round the clock shots I bang all year

Raise your guns and salute, 'cause the gang’s all here

Niggas had minor setbacks, but that’s all clear

It’s the Army of the Pharaohs: the sum of all fears

Ah yeah, I’m so focused, I’m damn near laser like

Sharp as a razor, you small fries like tater bites

McNugget MCs, popcorn chickens

The nine has arisen and I’m not gon' miss

I’m not gon' listen to anything rational

I’m hardheaded and indifferent

So I’m all in your kitchen

Looking through the silverware

The gaze of a killer’s stare, gorilla’s back with silver hairs

Keep the metal grungy like Silverchair

Drinking so much Vodka that I’m 'bout to have a liver scare

Low Life like the Skillionaire

And I bet it be a fucking riot whenever my niggas there

My code name is Cocaine

I’m propane with no flame

I make green like David Banner or a fake gold chain

I’m Cobain with no brain

It’s no pain, it’s no gain

I’m Conan, I’m Chopin, the dope man, I’m profane

I’m Xanax, I’m Prozac, I’m rap when it was pro black

I’m so crack I go back to parties playing Soul Clap

The old head Jamaicans with machine guns on mopeds

The «Oooh, you in trouble, when dad gets home, you’re so dead»

I’m more Timbs than Pro Keds

I’m Rakim, I know the ledge

I know the Feds go the lenghts to follow me, it’s code red

If hoes claim it’s «code red"it's all good, it’s all head

You want a problem? No sweat

I’ll body you, I’m Boba Fett

Yo, the raps are murderous and lethal

Flow, never ending like Fast and Furious sequels

Oh, now you’s a gangsta, what that sounding like?

My speed’s the Batmobile, your speed’s a mountain bike

Yeah, I write an album in a day

It takes you a week to come up with one clever thing to say

Too busy hashtaggin', too busy humble braggin'

Too busy sayin' that you workin' when you feet draggin'

Uh, we in Barcelona, you in bars alone… uh, plus your car’s a loaner

I’m back into focus, you jabronis splashin' on cologne the hopeless

You don’t know what women like, you know aromas

Your team’s a carcinoma, my team’s the Army soldiers

We all contribute to the game, I’m just the largest donor

The spit is sick dog, yeah I bark at owners

The Man of Steel, Superman without the Clark persona

Let’s take a trip inside the mind of a mobster

Let’s see a rare kind of monster (uurh)

Iron I’m palmin', I am Brian De Palma (aww)

If Bush hired Osama then fire the Llama (pow)

Light the ganja scoma and spit shine my armor (yea)

Want weed see the rasta man

Wanna get killed?

Come see the «put your noodles in your pasta"man

(And that’s me)

Backyard got snow in the summer

I mean I got ski slopes, I am in beast mode

Silly puddy my C-4 (uh-huh)

No dot com’s or dot nets

When I rock different links so stop and kiss the pinky ring (the boss)

Act tough and I might laugh, I’m a giant

Sit up out my chair and block your motherfuckin' flight path