A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

ULTRAMAGNETIC M.C.S lyrics : "War"

(feat. Gee-Banga)

[Gee-Banga (Ced Gee):]

Uhh, this real New York %#@! right here man
You already know
Kool Keith, Gee-Banga let's go

(Ced Gee, Ultra, uhh)
Uhh, uhh, yo, yo


I wanted keys in my collection, so I loaded bullets in my weapon
Put on my gear, gun in my hand, prepare for this 187
See I'm a hustler, not a murderer

But if you get on my $#&@in nerves then I'm gon' have to murder ya
Badder than stores that's from the Saudia{?}
Pull out my tec, gunnin yout neck execution style and just slaughter ya

Cookin them cracks that you be coughin up
Really don't give a $#&@ about family or who you the son of daughter of
You gon' really make me have to torture ya

But that's my second name in the hood, you can call me the extortion
G to the Danger is the enforcer of, G.K.B.
and gangster %#@! that the streets could ever offer ya

I always been less fortunate; so I $#&@ (*##$es
Party and drink and blow that sticky to get up off of it
When in reality you the talk of it

So don't be surprised me @@#! back and be demandin you take off your %#@!

[Chorus: Gee-Banga]

This is war, son you know we always packin that 4
And we puttin bullets straight through your door
Plus we stayin on point cause we don't wanna fall

If you get caught slippin you'll get killed for sure - brrrap!
This is war, son you know we always packin that 4
And we puttin bullets straight through your door

Plus we stayin on point cause we don't wanna fall
If you get caught slippin you'll get killed for sure


[Kool Keith:]
I'm international, worldwide traveller beyond that block %#@!
You hear about it, y'all can't avoid it when I drop %#@!

It's like takin a fat-ass sumo wrestler out with a dropkick
You get they rap careers started, my job is stop %#@!
Piss on anything y'all spit

Door #1, I can play Bob, Barker
Your (*##$ can't bid here
Better stay with the @@#! she picked, with sauce on her lip boss

I $#&@ up your lip gloss
Get your handicap games out ^!$$%, cause you gonna limp across
Like a slow man in the street

Y'all ^!$$%z put up your umbrellas up
Nobody wanna $#&@ with my sunstroke heat
That's on the strength~! After you leave, the car wash

I %#@! on top of your Cherokee Jeep
When I knock on the door
^!$$%z play like they not home, cause they scared to speak!

Sleepin under beds, wrapped up in $#&@in sheets!
Sega Genesah ^!$$% we finish a ^!$$%


[Chorus]

[Ced Gee:]

Yeah, check it
Dawg you cross me, you might as well take your own life
See I ain't takin no prisoners son, I'm even murderin your wife

Slaughterin all your kids, yeah, I'm that trife
Then sit down listen to your rep and give a thorough sermon
about the wrath of Christ

Drink some hot cocoa, sleep well that night
Then wake up in the mornin, and write some Ultra elevation
Do a show in Italy dawg, then listen to a standin ovation

Make a couple of songs in Haitian
Spanish and Japanese, bee-da-dong-yong
I'm great son, make no mistake son

You sleep on me all you want, and I bet you they find yo' $$# in a lake son

[Chorus]


[Outro:]
This is war...
This is war...
This is war...

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