Seven (feat. Planetary, Chief Kamachi, King Syze, Reef the Lost Cauze, Doap Nixon, Demoz, Celph Titled & Vinnie Paz)
Army of the Pharaohs
Hip-Hop
102,841
Music Video
Seven
Top Songs By Army of the Pharaohs
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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Demoz
Performer
Doap Nixon
Performer
Reef the Lost Cauze
Performer
King Syze
Performer
Chief Kamachi
Performer
Planetary
Performer
Army of the Pharaohs
Performer
Celph Titled
Performer
Vinnie Paz
Performer
Vincent Luviner
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Celph Titled
Songwriter
Vincent Luviner
Songwriter
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Yeah, yo, uh
A lot of rappers try approaching the omen
My poems will punish your people while I'm up at the podium
Pharaohs folding 'em, like washed clothes again
I'm a vulture when the flow go choke your kin
Broke, I leave most of them, slow, I keep my motionin'
Eye on the prize I silence the wise, my lyrics make a scientist cry
Making a secret society expose their purpose
Making 'em unleash info and explode in my surface
[Verse 2]
I'm taking my time to birth this, rap entity earthless
It's show time, there's no time, be ready when the curtain split
I'm hurtin' shit, too powerful for painkillers
On the concrete jungle we walk like trained guerrillas
Untamed, and my **** is Kane
Kool G, Rakim, combined into one frame
We like the new mecca of immaculate rappers
Vinnie Paz, call the goons, now we back with the clappers
[Verse 3]
Yo, remain silent, kill him with what I mentally says
Bloody Fez, choke you like an Indian rez
Kamach, animal Turk, sick with a cannibal smirk
Welcome, this where the murderers lurk
It's my mind, that make sure that the Sun can work
Scorch bodies, leave all of your gunmen hurt
Pharaoh sultans, create a serious cult jam
And my hand is where the tears of the pope ran
They stay watching like they keep me on a scope cam
I'm in Heaven with the angels that smoke grams
You need God, that's why the earth so damned
International, trying to get my flow banned
That's cool, if I don't kick these prayers
A lot of floods and fam' is gonna hit these years
Kamachi back on the chapel stairs
Open the clouds, let the thunder clap your ears
[Verse 4]
You wanna put your money up? Then, motherfucker, then put it
For your family's sanity, man, I wish that you wouldn't
**** got nice flows, just don't know where to put it
And I know your whole life your raps are edited footage
And y'all mixtape **** couldn't see my plateaus
All up in my presence, while y'all actin' bashful
King Size casting an ecliptic rap flow
Y'all little light **** couldn't feed my shadows
From city to city, intersection to section
But you reflexin' with or without a weapon
I'm always steppin', never scared
But always and forever prepared
Yeah the ones who drink gas, man, is revvin' their gears
[Verse 5]
You now rockin' with the foulest clique in the continent
Total dominance, rise to prominence, in my prime like Optimus
Stand in astonishment
At this conglomerate, an axis of evil I know where Osama is
He down in Camp David, down and dirty like a damp basement
The champ must demand greatness
From himself, or be another contender
There's hundreds of ****, dead, left under the river
[Verse 6]
From the days of slaves to hurricanes in Orleans
See my people's graves floatin' amongst the waves
There's hell to pay, but the devil don't take checks
I tried to send a message to God, His phone don't take texts
I need a new plan, a crook with knowledge
Times is hard, homie, why I took them dollars
Man, my mama got a mortgage
And my little baby sister need books for college
I rob all of y'all
[Verse 7]
Hey, yo, they want the hood in here so they called me first
I give 'em rappers Gatorade 'cause they ball with thirst
Uh, this is more than music but these **** is mad trash
That's why the stores refuse 'em, yo
I'm out in Georgia, went straight to the block
I'm seein' cats motorcycling, dawg, I'm doin' the walk
I'm an OG, I call my Italian **** a wop
Though their papers ain't right, but they got weight on the block
[Verse 8]
I love 'em, uh, hand to hand, see your hands ache
I drunk so much syrup, dawg, I stopped eatin' pancakes
Ya **** cool, dawg, mine's absurd hot
Stop frontin' like you's a killer money, your nerves shot
Yo you's a Paxil ****, dumpin' Zoloft in coffee
AOTP what exhaust be
Can't keep it gear 'cause I'm blinging with Fs
But I got my mind right so swing your shit to the left
[Verse 9]
****, if I had twenty-four hours to live
Fuck twenty-four hours, gimme twenty-four seconds
Then I'm drivin' off a bridge
Broken rib, no windshield, covered in kerosene
Gasoline tank filled to the top
Magazines of these phony rappers ripped in pieces
No priest is strong enough to take me out of my zone
I broke Jesus, choke **** who squeal
Rob **** who steal, kill **** who kill
I'm too sick for a pill
[Verse 10]
Man, these **** ain't real, they real fake
They say they a man but they fuckin' with real snakes
That's when you put 'em in a trunk with their grill taped
Rip in reverse then run into a steel gate
I'm a suicide driver, never been a liar
If I don't kill you later, I'ma kill you mañana
You don't want no problems
You don't want no drama
****, I'ma take a trip with your baby mama, suicide driver
[Verse 11]
Ya better cross your T's 'cause we'll dot your eyes
You can say that you specialize but pharaohs will optimize
Backstage will get a bitch back smacked there
The mac glare like dirty south pimp slap clap snares
Yeah, holy paragraphs, what kind of shit is that?
I'm Jesus in the flesh so this is motherfuckin' Christian rap
Y'all just Christmas wrap, must be the secret Santa
My reindeer aim near, pierce you with the antlers
[Verse 12]
I made 'em go easy, and called off the wolves on my AOTP radio CB
'Cause y'all ain't worthy of grenades and RPGs
Slit throat, hope you float with sardines and seaweed
'Cause this is C-E-L-P-H demonic symphony
Listen to the hell we make
And a year before your kid's tenth birthday came
You didn't have to wait for candles on the cake to see the nine flame
[Verse 13]
Respect a G, my clique clap at you incessantly
I lay back and drink alcohol excessively
It ain't a rapper that's alive today that's testing me
I got degrees in being ignorant and weaponry
A forty ounce of Dutch Master is the recipe
That's my shit there, that'll be the death of me
Give me a death mask, better yet an effigy
I understand the math of death and it's complexity
I understand how you was violently murked
I understand how you was raised under the lies of the church
But understand and recognize that I'm cursed
With the ability to end your fucking lives with a verse, yeah
Written by: Edward El Littlepage, Jose Vargas, Mario Collazo, Vincent Luviner, William Braunstein
