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lirik lagu ww3 (the kingdom comes) – saint paul kings

[verse 1: kamikazi]
trying to tell em i’m in a dark place
you better get me for defeat, i’m spitting ether, i hit you with the heat call that scarface
whatever the method you look at the grind, you just wanna breathe and live a little peace up in long days, just wanna sleep i don’t hear a beep
i’m just here speaking my best and y’all finna rest with this therapy
give me a beat and a little tree
run up and rattle because we’re bettеr with my venom [?] amphetamine
i’m on anothеr level too hot to hold
i’m the tupac but you’re not for sure
wait and soon now you ghost, yelling “who got the tool?”
i can [?]
[?] till you drop and choke, i resume, lock and load
i’m consumed with this doom, i get cool in my room telling you not to come
to the homies: it’s on, you ready? (i’m ready)
let me focus my energy off in my zone, but it’s all in my dome
[verse 2: malo 35..7]
getting up on it and making moves cause i got to
burning like fire, i lit the fuse that live inside you
disturbing like the feeling when you feel you’re being lied to
if you pull out a machete, i’ll be ready with the rifle
like a psycho, and i might go get stuck in the cycle
the maestro, gonna erase your whole existence like a typo
spiteful, all my f*cking issues they are trifle
stifle, slipping for a minute looking frightful now you’re looking at the exit
like, i know you wanna go but ain’t no exiting the match
i bring the 40 thang to blow
because i’m menacing, you never seen
you never really know about a person blood splatter, i’ma leave em on the floor, i gotta go
but the devilish thoughts seem to creep in my mind and they constantly telling me
cuando le pegan duro te juro seguro mi mundo i’m living it mentally

[verse 3: twisted insane]
i feel like i’m imprisoned on this earth
i wake up in the morning with this thought that maybe this gon’ be the day
somebody walk up on me at a show on let me go
a couple holes up in my coat, and bl**dy murder’s in my fate
i’m posted with my tv on a crate
i wish she wasn’t with the wishy washy but i feel the b*tch is iffy
especially the way she look at money, when i pull it out she starts to mouthing, i ain’t even got a fifty
never to get it when it’s tripping up off the usual
nothing really matters, obvious, and you can tell by the demeanour
the bottle was the model of my past, smoking on top and then get splashed
shoulda never chased it up with aquafina
my vision starts to fade off into black
slip into a coma, never know if i’m awaking from the dream
so i’ma continue to rip these syllables into ya
but you did it for some b*tches and i did it for my team
[verse 4: sleep lyrical]
dropping in the mix with a couple snake heads in a bag, unsheath my sword get ready for the splash
i ain’t jumping out the window ‘less they come in with a bag
please tell me that there’s drama, got my gun, don’t need a mask
i ain’t got too much to live for
pull a katana, i’m chopping ’til your ribs show
i thought that we could cure it all with some indo but the dust inside the dutch made the whip roll
so trust me it’s nothing to lose, they might call it suicide from a different view
but you can smell the flesh burn when it enters you
too much internal bleeding, that’s it for you
and murder musick is the clique i’ma rep ’til i fall
you’re not with that sh*t, so don’t step to me, dog
i sever, detaching your neck to your skull
if i came with my pistol i’m letting it off

[verse 5: liquid assassin]
motherf*ckers don’t want conflict
my conscience constantly conquers concepts
i’m confident you incompetent, no contest
trying to condemn me to nonsense and stop my progress
everybody in the game wanna rock, condensed
thinking everything they drop hot, but i’m not convinced
i butcher rappers with lyrics that contradict
’til they come back around, constrict ’em as a consequence
but you ain’t got what it takes, but i’m needed to be rhyming a flow, i know [?]
started rock bottom and low, god i’m alone, just me and the mic rape ’til five in the morn’
no i’ll never be fake [?]
every single time that i rhyme live at a show, miles ago
started giving it, won’t stop, we’re striving to grow
[verse 6: king sandman]
finna drop the bomb, they don’t really wanna hear the sound of that
they don’t really wanna see the light and then what will come after that when the thunder clap
they don’t really wanna see the rain that’ll wipe everything from the earth from contact
and they don’t really wanna see an army full of thugs from the ghetto that’s ready to bomb back
keep my dirt in the low low, living by the code while you n*ggas steady snitching in your rap songs
talking loud on the phone, representing our world, showing signs of the block that you’re trapped on
but you really need to stop it
cause i will peel a n*gga broad daylight
i know it’s tragedy but it’s reality, the midwest side never play nice motherf*cker

[verse 7: playboy the beast]
i be coming with the deadly, i be screaming bl**dy murda
coming with the pistol let it off and ima hurt ya
run up with the redrum ima sip and ima murk ya
sometimes i be feeling like i’m cursed and i’m stuffed up in dirt with bloodstains on my shirt
n*ggas know i pack a shovel in the back of the he*rs*
now i pack my sawed off leave em buried in the earth
n*ggas acting like they k!llers but they stop and hinder
and they getting on my nerves, i’m about to go berserk
if they kidding with my team n*gga you gon get the work
[?] but i guarantee your body’s never found
[?]
murder musick we the motherf*cking kings of the underground

[verse 8: hurricane]
i am the f*cking one, they won’t have to try to run
from an endeavor with devils whose clarity go and rip the f*cking mic alone
i chop a n*gga with the microphone until his b*tch ass life is gone
i been a motherf*cking master better to get you apathetic
i cut into ’em ’til they need a medic
you’ll probably use a couple anesthetics to get you back up on your feet, what?
then i’m going right back at it
i been the kansas city general, n*gga, i am the pinnacle
they’re never identical to me ’cause i am a chief
silverback gorilla that’s ready to show his t**th
beat you until you’re thinking your life about to leave
they gon’ meet the holy maker for trying to get it with me
you gon’ see, i’m a motherf*cking mastodon
better prepare for the mask and gun
because when i get to purging i’ma blow until the match is done
hurricane, n*gga

[verse 9: king iso]
murda gang with the herd of brainsick is anybody f*cking with this homie we get borderline n*gga
all sort of fake n*ggas thinking they can stand with us in the underground you better make your vertebrae thicker
cause y’all the n*ggas spitting lame where the frame mane heard a thang hurt’ll make a n*gga turn to paink!llers
cause we are like the hardest breed of the zombies going r*t*rded special put the 38 in ya
you huffing paint thinner if you think that you a factor
a god on wax and i’m preaching to the pastor
i’ll pity figure rappers for thinking they about it would you not believe i’m stomping made you leak, a n*gga matchless
cause everybody wanna see the psycho tame
f*cking everything up besides just like your gang
double m and the sick that’s a night show thang
you heard it here first n*gga iso brain

[verse 10: emce damage]
can’t really say that i hated this hate
’cause ain’t n0body really cared ’til i painted my face
now everybody wanna stare when i get up on stage
now you motherf*ckers are really just fueling my rage
you can enter in my darkness if you see what’s my brain
yeah i’m coming up, should i cut ’em up?
we about to f*ck ’em up any second, you finna see me go insane
i’ma give you all my pain, it’s simple and plain
the way that i came in the game by spitting the flame
you n*ggas are lame if you claim you really the same but you ain’t
so let me explain, i’ll put you to shame for you even thinking you was even part of this lane
i’m putting you in a predicament, then i’m finna finish motherf*ckers by the time that i really finish spitting this
because we k!lling it, it’s brainsick and murda gang and i know that you n*ggas are feeling it, yeah

[verse 11: dieabolik the monster]
b*tch gotta k!ll em all i gotta get to playing
[?]
i can switch from the blade to the k like you switching on a video*game
but when i’m hitting all my targets
yeah b*tch dark artist
talking from the heart where the f*cking dark art is
being on the scene and they gotta be harnessed
they talking on me but i swear they gon be harmless
they don’t wanna pop
i can fold em up like cardboard
aiming at the middle like a dartboard
damage [?] hardcore
come back in the middle and i k!ll em like an encore
swinging till my arms sore
they don’t really want war
sh*t make a scene whenever we
walking together, i’m sick in the brain
with the gang and it’s nothing, i promise
you can’t find a group that is better, we raw

[verse 12: solo]
raw, letting it off
i’ma hit you quicker than a semi sawed off
any way we’ll make it happen, it don’t matter what the cost
we’re never taking a loss, i’ma take it up with your boss and put him up on a cross
i don’t even need to get the generals
but if you really want it, better go and call the medical
you better love the way that we be spitting so incredible
like cannibals or animals, i hunt ’em when they edible
make a little room, finna haul off
goons in the room [?] automatic sawed offs
saint peel em k!ll em and ain’t n0body crawling off
track on fire like a motherf*cking molotov
ain’t n0body k!lling me or getting rid of me
i’m trying not to make a lot of enemies
i feel i got a long road ahead of me, i’m running out of energy
i’m tryna make it better, see i’m working on a better me

- saint paul kings

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