A keresés eredménye

Return to the Pyramids

[Verse 1: Cassidy & Ill]
Prepared for the Big Bang, behind all the sick, tight cliques
Pitbulls with snapbacks, big bands
(What’s happenin', homie?)
Guys chanting that they sell hash and skunk
They smell the money, the police raid
Kids get hard-ons watching gang films
Quick! They lied to you, get up, pause your Tony Montana flick
Pump your body, pump-action shotgun, knife
Pray everyone makes it out alive
Your vices are suspect
Like a boner in a Lotto tracksuit
Or a killer who leaves his picture
A glimmer in the eyes, a sweaty forehead
Black skin, a clear focus for the business
The street: my casino like Pacino and Pesci
Too much competition between us like Coke and Pepsi
Like epilepsy, it's shaky like Makossa
A line of stolen girls, drama (Hey! That’s my girl!)
Bottles of whiskey get broken like in saloons
Like a scene from (Platoon) It’s a shithole, brother
 
[Chorus: Ill]
I got strength for the brothers, where’s my throne?
Return to the pyramids, fuck the clones
I got strength for the brothers, the stars are my only guide
Return to the pyramids after centuries
 
[Verse 2: Ill]
Golden like an eagle, I got the eye of the tiger like Rocky
So long as they’re groggy from my style, their drug
Let’s take the money before they scream
Damn! Shit! Don’t worry, I got a blueprint, a plan to make them pay
Light up some weed while we split the profit, who takes what?
I don’t wanna be had
You got it? I don’t want any misunderstandings
On the way to the Caribbean, coconuts, warm water like the sirocco
Exotic girls for a guy rated X like Rocco
Motivated by hate, I got one more train to catch, I drive the locomotive
Detach the railcars, born in the year of the dragon
 
[Cassidy]
I had my mans Ill in the spot for a deal
Where we could’ve put stacks on the bullseye
A giant scheme like Shaquille O'Neal
It was that or a business already packed with so many players
Only brothers in prison
Or pedophiles in the Philippines
So take it easy, we got some kilos of muscle just in case of an attack
 
[Chorus: Ill]
I got strength for the brothers, where’s my throne?
Return to the pyramids, fuck the clones
I got strength for the brothers, the stars are my only guide
Return to the pyramids after centuries
 
[Verse 3: Ill]
My rap is shocking like a nun smoking crack in Vincennes
Tattooed, scantily clad, tainted for 20 cents
A convoy of five Benzes with only black dudes in them
Or a gay dwarf pogo-dancing with ten skinheads
Gassed up like a Bunsen burner, I’m the breakdance boogie
Your guys are miskine
I represent my people like Denzel
Ex-rookie, noble brothers, always full of zeal
On my polo, bullet-holes form my logo
Others make me laugh like Bozo the Clown
They behave like they’re at a zoo
I’m an anti-Viking felon, I make colonies
Black Napoleon, chameleon man
Bang! We pillage the country like Mesrine
We loot Virgin, villas, cities and pools
We drink tequila
My family, my cocoon, let’s shock our former colonizers
Skewer them from ass to neck with our long penises
Dreads under Dim stockings, Timbs, long verses
I see red like the skin packed together in reservations
I sleep with black squaws, squat in their teepees, worse than a hippie
I inhale poppies, not you
I engrave real life in the pavement
Like the guys from the Lascaux Caves, like Vasco da Gama
I’m looking for virgin lands to infiltrate
Like Donnie Brasco in the Mafia
So I’m paranoid, on speed like Martin Payne on cocaine
I got hate for Calvin Klein jeans
I represent my clan, I got the feeling like Marvin Gaye
Too many flute players, I’m a king like Martin Luther
We need to organize
And create our own things
Before everything explodes
We need to arm ourselves
 
[Chorus: Ill]
I got strength for the brothers, where’s my throne?
Return to the pyramids, fuck the clones
I got strength for the brothers, the stars are my only guide
Return to the pyramids after centuries
 
[Outro: Ill]
Every street, every city, every country, every island
Every continent, the sky, space, the big red circles
The galaxy, the universe, the infinite, come to KFC
Go back to your girl, your maid, quick, ‘97 X-Men