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Royal Fam lyrics : "Walk The Dogs"

[Intro: Timbo King]
Y'all ^!$$%s %#@!tin on my sidewalk
Curb ya dog

You could pay a penalty for that

[Timbo King]

Yo, sharp swords and rusty knives against dusty nines
You stink ^!$$%s with musky vibes
Battle cry, warrior stance, the black Pearl Harbor

Smell of revenge, worms in the air
Spit like grandpa from down South
Three-sixty roundhouse, I'm throwin planets and stars

All I need is two pieces of fish and five loaves of bread
Watch me feed five thousand, power the Hill
Out of the ville, zip code unlisted

Murder last night, the homocide, missed it
Blood For Blood, gang turf
The way of the samurai sword, we bang first

Each your food, test your flesh, lock doors
Top dogs with paws obey God's laws
Claim your set, light reflects off water

My Fam outta state sellin quarters
Convicts with court orders
Shoot the gift out the barrel

Multiple gunshot wounds or poison arrows
Moon saw beats pharoah, bloody apparell
The streets look safe, but they narrow

Modern day Jes' James, rock trains, close range
Watches and chains, ear rings, everything
Corporate thugs move on business campaigns

Blaze, ignite the flame, I carry the torch
Walk through The Valley of Death and get scorched


[Chorus: Mighty Jarrett]
Wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wa BLUH!
Wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wa BLUH!

Two shot lick out, a man get shot
Straight from the cannon, $$# wouldn't know less
Just because of that, the whole block get hot

Police helicopter, a snipe 'pon de roof top
Wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wa BLUH!


Wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wa BLUH!
Two minute later, Babylon catch spark
in the staircase with a rasclat glock

Never know, said them wouldn't come round back
Know him look like, said him youths can't talk
Wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wa BLUH!

Wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wa BLUH!

[police sirens]

[machine gun fire]

[La the Darkman]

Darkman, came do my thing, the Bee sting
Assassinate your whole team with the forty red beam
My sword gleam, sharpen my script as an arrow

Professional, La, my style, double barrell
I self-Lord, master, natural disaster
Holy slang to splash ya, dark force to thrash ya

Blind eyes, puligiments, got four wives
Inside my square, rappers get buried alive
We never even, put you in the dirt still breathin

Perfection, gold mic touch, dunn, I'm blessin
Flames lick the flesh, shot at some of the best
When delf play me at my rest, stab the kid in his chest

Now I got respect, runnin through boroughs, hoods and towns
^!$$%s pull they pants down when I show the four pound
Verbally fantastic, @@#! my rhyme, blast it

Trapa Ghandi, classic, gun talk, gymnastics
Rude boy, shoot, seek and destroy
My gold tech blast rappers from here to Quebec

Yo, La's born, Brooklyn raised
You ^!$$%s get more than grazed when I blaze my guage
It's not an arcade, dunn, my gun is real as AIDS

I'm Holyfield, rappers is Tyson these days
Darkman, Wu-Tang Clan, La the Darkman
Wu-Tang Clan, the Killah

[Chorus]


[police sirens]
[machine gun fire]

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