Contra Mantra - Army of the Pharaohs, Celph Titled, Esoteric

Uh, yeah, okay.

A.O.T.P

E.S, Celph Titled.

What up?

Uh

I solemnly swear, this is my testimony

I’mma keep it one hundred while the rest are phony

I’m wildin' out like suicide is my mission

I ain’t tryin' to be crucified by the system

You should take heed, I advise you to listen

Watch me break knees, I’m surprisin' my victims

The question remains who am I when I’m spittin'?

It’s me, the MC, I ain’t no new edition

My mind’s a coliseum, I spit diamonds that glisten

The beat is my journal where these lines will get written

Been through the garden, ate the fruit that’s forbidden

So back the fuck up when I’m removin' my fitted

You could never walk in these shoes you don’t fit in

Y’all all say your hot but that is just your opinion

Y’all can all die in the spot that you sit in

A.O.T.P., the underground has risen

All we do is pray till the game come back

That’s why we sitting here building, spitting flame on tracks

(So what you say) don’t matter at all

So we gon' sit here and wait till God answer the call

All we do is pray till the game come back

That’s why we sitting here building, spitting flame on tracks

(So what you say) don’t matter at all

So we gon' sit here and wait till God answer the call

It’s such a pity

Ain’t nothing pretty

Lyrics bury cats under 150 tons of scum in the city

You say you poppin' bottles and stunnin' like Diddy?

But your pockets be flatter than a models stomach and tittes

While you frontin' like you rugged an gritty

Why I spit it so hot

Why I like Big L and Big Pun more than Biggie and Pac

I’m from that late 90's era where the Polo wasn’t jig enough

A Gucci and Louie and Prada shit wasn’t big enough

I would spit it ridiculous, stay on point like Rondo

Y’all bring up the rear like a J-Lo convo

No they don’t want no beef, they all want their teeth

I may go Bronco, so lay low pronto chief

Four albums in a year, that’s more than in your whole career

They all bang, battle?

I do more than end your whole career

So severe, beat you with a foldin' chair, listen

A.O.T.P.'s what the games missin'

(All we do is spray) Till the game come back

That’s why we sittin' here building, spittin' flame on tracks

(So what you say) Don’t matter at all

So we gon' sit here and wait till God answer the call

All we do is pray till the game come back

That’s why we sitting here building, spitting flame on tracks

(So what you say) don’t matter at all

So we gon' sit here and wait till God answer the call

Yo, yeah

Paper money?

No, I wanna see that iron buck

They be robbin' hoods, so I keep that fryer tucked

Try to have these props taken from me?

You end up red and blue like a female cop on they monthly

Dumpin' student body’s in front of the student body, air em out

Beacon on my radar tellin' me where’s ya whereabouts?

(where?)

Magazine drums, have ya head bobbin'

Dead body nonstop noddin' downhill in a toboggan

Shoot the Uz through ya house in Honolulu (Ooh wow)

I’ll throw a pineapple grenade at ya, (Luau)

Am I conceited?

Oh yeah best believe it

Rap supervisor, pop up on lawns with fire arms

True surpriser

You’ll be rockin an upside-down visor

And it won’t be a wack fashion trend neither

More like Suge Knight/Vanilla Ice shit, hotel balcony danglin'

My monsoon is Tom Cruise Valkyrie famous

(All we do is spray) till the game come back

That’s why we sittin' here building, spittin' flame on tracks

(So what you say) don’t matter at all

So we gon' sit here and wait till God answer the call

All we do is pray till the game come back

That’s why we sitting here building, spitting flame on tracks

(So what you say) don’t matter at all

So we gon' sit here and wait till God answer the call