Raw Is War (clean) Lyrics & Tabs by Vinnie Paz
Raw Is War (clean)
guitar chords lyrics
(Vinnie Paz)
Yo. It's Vinnie Paz baby my man Panik on the track! NAMEAN! NAMEAN!
I'm bout to take yall to war. Teach yall how to rhyme. Check it out
YO YO
(Verse 1)
We heavenly divine, thats why we steadily shine
and put a steel mic through a enemy spine
my voice got power like if ten of me rhyme
and gettin in my face means its weaponry time
look at you, studyin my every design
bangin this, listening to every rhyme
heavy rewind, Vinnie Paz'll fight vicious
Yall easier to fuck with than white bitches
We nice with this, yall better stand still
Musta forget the fact Hologram ill
Yall easier to fuck with than white bitches
We nice with this, yall better stand still
Musta forget the fact Hologram ill
I doubt yall, Vinnie Paz the outlaw
Yall mafuckas is never right like southpaws
Thats why I doubt yall, yall aint raw
rippin you with a 45 caliber claw!
you wanna see the last kid i battled before?
then check his fuckin brain where I splattered the wall
Hook (2x):
RAW IS WAR! YALL BETTER PRAY FOR ARMAGEDDON!
YALL SPILL BLOOD ON SLUGS FROM ALL WEAPONS!
VINNIE PAZ! I'M LIKE THE LORD's RESURRECTION!
IT'S ALL ENDING! SO BRING THE GOD WHEN I STEP IN!
(Verse 2)
You're forced to fight, when I'm scorching the mic
my source of light. *holy* like the corpse of Christ
you lost your life, and I'm the sorceror right?
and Vinnie Paz rhyme have you lost in the light
what? yall mafuckas think you flossin tonight?
gimme that! matter of fact, toss me your ice
but still, my clique is too ill
and yall? yall more bitch than Dru Hill
the true skill that come through me,
Is from banging "All Hell Freeze" by Cool C
yall dont move me, yall at war with the veteran
with the digital trigger finger like the letterman
the vendetta gram, I know where my heart's at
I'm the better man, so dont start that
when we bomb back. BURN FUCKIN LEECHES
send you to hell to see more shells than beaches
we elitists, we from Hamburger Hill
science and math combined with supreme skill
the team ill, we send you to hell fast
your cream build, you buried in Belfast
ayo Panik! pass me the gin!
'cuz aint too much muthafuckers rockin with Vin!
stomp him with tims, 'cuz I heard he hate hell
the last thing that he saw? a .38 shell
*hook*
