Song parody of

7 Fires of Prophecy

by Vinnie Paz

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  • English (English)
  • Français (French)
  • Español (Spanish)

We minding my business and leave me yours alone We talking about me your job is on the camera motherfucker Hey look at this motherfucker right here in the back. Look. Look. Look at this motherfucker right here in the back Look. Look at him uppercut. Look at the uppercut! Look at the uppercut! Look at the uppercut! Look lo lo lo look at the uppercut right there! Hey! Hey, do the uppercut again! Do the uppercut again "Is it good or bad?" Terrible. Like the worst thing in the world Hey it's a job, you know what I mean? And especially in America having a job is a blessing And doing something you love is a blessing even if the people are miscreants Yeah you's a fucking wuss. You know what I mean? You couldn't last a day in my shoes A lot of these cats I wish they'd just forget the address to the gym You know everything is not for everybody. You don't see me going in motherfucking Wall Street Picking up a fucking briefcase trying to type do you? 'Cause that's not what the fuck I do I beat the fuck out of people. You know what I mean? Flow is tsunami, bulletproof Bugatti Arab Nazi spraying a semi out a Ferrari Crash Maybach Music, smash Aston Martins Cops turned rappers, y'all niggas is targets! Regardless, I'm the hardest to wannabe martyrs Chest game weak, niggas need to move more smarter Art of war is mastered, my thoughts be the realest Military intelligence, hood under surveillance Armed up like they got beef with the government Hood shit, ghetto apostle, live covenant Move like the niggas that's facing Capital Punishment Jedi, Militant Minds is who I run with Queens where the villains meet, killas with illa heat Lifers with blood in they eye, saying they feeling me Naturally will only be me, one tragedy Kuwait Majesty, stay tuned, witness the faculty Come on lord don't make me load the pump The Mossberg have you taking shots like the local drunk My trigger finger itch like I ain't had a smoke in months I land a left-right-left before you throw a punch. (Left, right left!) I was sent from God in case Jehovah fronts I'm the explorer in the Torah I was chosen once Put you in the corner you a lonely dunce I been rhyming since Phyllis Hyman and golden fronts And y'all don't wanna see the heat melt The strap go click and I ain't talking bout a seat-belt Y'all could never feel the pain that we felt Pops died, watch my mother cry, think how she felt! You in Mexico, fuck around with Federale I ain't hard to find, look for the severed bodies I come from a culture where we treasure Gotti Sono Italiano, we ?, rebel Gotti!

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7 Fires of Prophecy

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