Luxor Temple Lyrics & Tabs by Army of the Pharaohs
Luxor Temple
guitar chords lyrics
The league of extraordinary gentlemen indeed
And proceed to take the underworld under siege
The most decorated, celebrated soldier on the scene
The most underrated, overhated nigga on my team
Black ops, black cops, falling on black tops
And I pursue chasing suspects through back blocks
A superhero shooting supernovas through my toaster
Face on a poster, hiding out in Nova Scotia
Break a mic over my knee, like Canseco kid
Still wanted on the run like I'm Pecos Bill
Spit quicker than a six shooter off of the hip
With thicker chicks in Bermuda blowing coke off the dick
Living the life of a pharaoh, in this modern day Babel
Fuckin' too many bitches could leave a nigga sterile
My whole battalion, snatchin' olympic gold medallions
Living the life of a pharaoh, in this modern day Babel
Fuckin' too many bitches could leave a nigga sterile
My whole battalion, snatchin' olympic gold medallions
Like old italians, season they gravy with the scallions
Official Pistol Gang click it and spark
I swear y'all mother fuckers made bitchin' an art
Vampire y'all mother fuckers stick through the heart
I don't rap over beats Vinnie rip em apart
I smell fear y'all was bitch from the start
Y'all are sweeter than a fructose kiss in the dark
I was here first I'm an aboriginal's thought
I have poison on the pen like an indigenous dart
My name box cutter I'm about to christen em, lord
Like a jail dude I'm a stick a shiv in em, lord
Throw a left hook then I take a piss on em, lord
Salt pepper ketchup everything I get in the store
They say the Siciliano was wild nice
I'm keep em feeding every block like I'm fried rice
Stupid rapper you could get punched in the eye twice
You could never walk in my shoes or live my life
This is tricknology trick trickle triple six
Blood droplets and optics I'm sick I'll slit your wrists
I'm wickeder than wicked witches or the wickedest men
I scribble on period pads get a whiff of this pen
I make pussies pop like ping pongs or slutty whores
Muddy floors from the bodies I buried in bloody wars
Blood in, blood out let em bleed out (repeat)
Radar got em, I spotted em, shot at rocket at em
Crushed em and forget em, in bottomless pits
Places where the goblins exist we gotta get chips
So we plot to rob all the rich I'm rotten, you bitch
How you think I'm rocking these kicks
I'm kickin it with Amon-Ra inside a rocketing ship
This the power of ether, I'm like a towering creature
Who figured out how to feature, by devouring speakers
I'm the pope of the pompous
Smoking dope with the Pontiff
Selling coke to Pocahontas
I poked in the Oval Office
I'm a dragon, exhaling the flames
Killing, impaling the lames
Demons are still in my brain
The evilest militant gang
Pharaoh clique, {NOT talented,} / (Gallant to notorious)
I'll bust your motherfuckin' shit
Slap boxing with oven mitts, I'm rugged with... words
Cops they don't want me murdering the locals but they (but what?)
Let me do it like Motorhead vocals, listen
Right brain, left handed, I'm a perfect mess
Mic's flames, don't touch it, it could burn your flesh
I'd rather steer my wagon here past the peer
To a certain death than have to hear about your rap career
Got it?
Everything I spit's got a golden seal
Authentic furniture flow, yeah I'm sofa real
Your day job is the only time you load the steel
General Zod motherfucker, make opponents kneel
I try to kill em off and make sure that they die
But they keep coming back and I (Don't know why!)
Flash the hammer at you in front of the nail shop (Is he crazy?)
I want you dead so bad I'll sleep on them jail cots (I'll do it.)
You in the hospital bed, I ain't satisfied
I need you on the coroner table, ribs open wide
Die for my respect til I'm laying on the pavement
Knowing I got a job in Hell narrating for Satan
They say I'm already that, nightmares, where Freddy at?
Cutting fingers off until you tell me where the 'fetti at (Where's it at?)
What good is alarm systems and guns
If I blow up your house, like a petroleum spout
Lock the coordinates in, fucker what I gotta aim it for?
Bitch ass rapper I was the first to pop your training bra (Fagget)
Stay away from my dough, it ain't gluten-free
My label got college interns that'll shoot for me
Bitch, boy you just a toy to me
Strangle you with an extension wire and handle a bitch boy accordingly
When I spit a little
Let me excuse myself before the Crown Royal dribble
And Crypt drive me to the hospital
Ritalin couldn't calm me, we toastin' to the Army
Capital Hill, trill, man I'm shooting at your car keys
Couldn't see the car seat, we had to pull the babies out, bomb
Took the lady out, this what being zany bout
M-80 shady out, shady like Em with the crazy mouth
Fuck you, pay me this a paper route
Outerspace caking out, out front of Outback Steakhouse
Waiting for haters to pull them plates out
Everything you got... mine
Everybody hot... I'm
Ready to machete them, cause petty niggas drop dimes
Scoop enough coins though, rock this funky joint flow
Wise and intelligent enough to let the horns blow
Back like a cornrow, with pourin' liquor, so I
In Death Reborn alive and I (Don't know why!)
