The Watchmen lyrics

by

Styles P


[Verse 1: Cambatta]
Another posse cut
I'm the c*cky f*ck
That no one knows that f*cked, the roster up
Then you spark a blunt & hear a God amongst
Men-nonite (Men or Knight), Christ on cross with a pen to write
My ink blood, I'm penning life ‘til I’m heaven’s height
Do CID, And dream a dream so lucid
I'll travel back in time before you lived
Threaten your father a day before shooting you in
And make him f*ck your mom to my music, like ‘Batta’s that new sh*t
I’m opposite Newton, I’m Scottie on Ewing
My shottie so spoiled, B-B-BRAT! I'm shooting
Fornicate a lot, I’ll record a rape and watch
While freebasing a quarter eight of rock, I'm stupid
Recognize patterns mind, Seven times Saturn wide
1/1 suicides, genocide, recognize
I forever shine so bright, that I’m wrecking eyes
Your retina’s blind like Helen's eyes
(Smoke!)
I'm sitting on the porch with my sociopathic ass
Liquor by the quart, and a O of that Cali grass
This sh*t is like a fort, I'm a soldier that battles tracks
Not a sacrificial lamb of that battle in Iran
I ain't chattel, I am cam
The lower case version
Still smoking dro, even though I ain't working
f*ck a vote ballot, I’m stuck in my home rapping
‘Till the flow is so dope I give Oprah a coke habit
[Verse 2: Styles P.]
You f*cking with the reaper mothaf*cka
I slice ya face like it was pizza mothaf*cka
.44 Magnum decease a mothaf*cka
Put’em on a t-shirt, rest in peace the mothaf*cka
Faces on a mural, I fry'em quicker than a churro
Carve my name in his chest like Zorro
It ain’t a Z it's a P though
I’m a shooter like Türkoğlu, Hedo (heater)
Throwing up the D sign looking like a 3 though
Throwing up the B sign looking like a 3 though
6 n*ggas dead souls float by the weed smoke
I ain’t the n*gga you try to act like a G-Folk
All these rappers on this hardcore sh*t
I ain’t the n*gga to play Hardball with
Yeah I was pitching, but it was never on the mound
I grab the strap and lay whoever on the ground
Handcuffs, duct tape, never make a sound
Your brain is fragile like it never take a round
It goes BLAP! then lights out
Headcrack, no dice out
Your man was talking hardcore sh*t, broke right out
Night brings the wolves out, And wolves bring the knifes out
The sh*t go like that, my handgun is a whore ‘cause she blow like that

[Verse 3: Nino Bless]
Unleash the beast from inside
I'm DMT for you writers
This is as easy as a target 3-feet from a sniper
Like, here's why you won't see me on TV
After I spit, they said he's a alien, I'd B(e), ET of the cypher
I, can't be defeated despite the media’s vices
I'm a tyrant spliced with Jesus & Leonidas' features
I just, seem so righteous
My soul's in flight like Vegeta
It’s the “Takeover” fueling Nas while I'm writing this “Ether”
That god-sent type, archetype
I bark and bite, I'm that Marquez right, TAKE HEED
My marketing hype, bars, don't try to hate, please
Look, ya wanna hear Bless so bad that you'll fake sneeze
Lately, this Ape's on a track rape spree
Taking me out's like trying to get DMX on a Drake Beat
Speaking of Drake, here's some sh*t for the ladies
To my ex: I hope she's bit by a pit with some rabies
Just kidding I'm gravy, Bless is fulfilled inside
With will survived, I built and thrived & still arrived
Feel the rise of the realest
I, will come thru ill advised while you bumping Kendrick, and kill ya vibe (b*tch!)
Can't clone me, a wolf in the land of the lamb, homie
f*ck ya whole team up, I'm D'Antoni
Got plans homie, I want a crib next to Regis
But I'll still stay ghetto like selling Swedish Fish during Freakniq
[Verse 4: Crooked I]
I’m on that Long Beach G-sh*t
I’m on that “f*ck all of my teachers who said I would never be sh*t,”
Look at me now, I am THE sh*t
I keep a pistol that’ll hit you in the stomach and make you pee sh*t
Rap’s future, the last goon
Been a strap shooter, since Brand Nubian’s Grand Puba was that dude
Man I clap rugers, and I’m Zab Judah with jab moves
I’m that stupid, to jack-move you in a bathroom
Like a mad looter (Luda), from Vancouver to Cancun, My mac chew your food
Man I’m cool on the stab wounds
Them other boys shank you
No you can’t outrun bullets, but I’d rather catch up to you
And Point-Blank you
Introduce the ketchup (catch up) to you
That Heinz dripping, tell your life it ain’t no more Rollies, ya time’s ticking
I just killed the biggest prick in the world
Now this n*gga’s hitting this girl with the biggest di*k in the world
Hitting her till she fixing to earl, no lick in her pearl
She all about, c*ck and nuts like mixing a chick and a squirrel
HaHa, Welcome to Mi Vida Loca
The Reverend said I’ll see Heaven when Hell freezes over
I told him bury me in my Jesus Piece
The ice is cold enough to freeze Haiti
I’m guaranteed to see Jehovah
Homie, I couldn’t write Slaughterhouse without my therapist
And tell Sarah Palin that I pal around with terrorists
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