Bond (of Backwoodz Studioz and Green Streets Entertainment) - Genocide lyrics

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Bond (of Backwoodz Studioz and Green Streets Entertainment) - Genocide lyrics

The Reavers (ft. Spiega, billy woods, and Kong) - “Genocide” [Produced by Bond (AKA 007)] [Intro: Sample from [?]] [?]: Bombs and ammunition are cheap and plentiful in Africa. Each rifle costs less than 20 U.S. dollars [Verse 1: Spiega] Deeper than clever. Clever's about ten-shot old Old is closer to dead and dead's cold. Touch your soul Grab a bow. Weak stomachs toss cookies in fluid You need to eat before abusing your music. Don't feel stupid Get into it, get your hands dirty, work for a minute Earn a blessing, wrap it away for someone to give it. Don't get it twisted Take whatever you can get from me. Yeah. Eat good and take The scraps and double-up off a twenty. Baby, don't tempt me If it's ugly. Trust me, you've never seen a spider get thirsty Slow d**hs gurgling blood an act of mercy, and if you curse me Then it just got worse. Now I got you biting your skin A little ketchup, it seems your substance is thin. Get your weight up I've stayed up for two years, been hustling for sleep. Now I'm Seeing visions where you still ask me for deep. Give me peace At least a day in the life of one looking for all Drunken echoes in the dark loiter the halls, paint the walls I'm out [Verse 2: billy woods] Silverback weight First metal I ever held was in FN FAL: 7.26 millimeter shells 1968 Congo River base and white man agitative But natives patient for interrogation Car battery attached to his anatomy, open to Suggestion. Lessons from Acadies to extract Confessions. Prolong the torture and scorch you Like homemade firewater. Gorillas with Grenades by the border. Sign reads: Out of Order Posted on your residence. The premise is War is the pestilence, d**h is for the penitent Three Horsemen riding by night Shying from light, sliding out of sight Famine on the way. From her, you can't hide Lord of the Flies, Planet of the Primates Smoke in the sky [?] Hung us like drapes. Roadblock—no escape AK poking through the driver's side window Eyes shut open off African, tie-endo Barrel nuzzling you, cousin. Christian or m**m? Humble or thugging? Bury ‘em all In the same trench. Clutching culottes, soaked Handkerchiefs, gagging off the stench [Verse 3: Kong] My mental Crush the globe with a touch. Earlobes Explode from flow. Explodes for dough, for show For sure, ho, give me the hatchet. Where the bat sh**? Hope you dumb n***as don't catch it. A basket of biscuits Squeezed inside his caskets. Shorty's son For basket. Then you roll on the dirty mattress They call me backwards ‘cause I robbed a b**h and robbed This b**h and f**ed, then asked for s** afterwards Kong is the beast in the dirt. Choose your sides Stand up if you're living by the curb Remember when I was young. Used to sleep. It's sick. Lick And sip it quick ‘cause daddy's cumming. You get the picture? Things Switched up: Kong got the hiccups, pulled the gun Stick up [?] But now my vision is clearer. Ready to stop Swearing and aiming inside of the mirrors. Hear it Smoking? Smoking, tired, my mental envisioning Dark [?] heartless. I'm back to the liquor starting f** wannabe pottery gauntlets Who started recording the cartridges of women talking Your broad, your b**h like to deepthroat the sausage She like to put her face in the dirt like a ostrich. Regardless Kong is monster. Fist clenched on my chest Carry you from banger. Anger management swinging Beside my chest cavity. Anything I bang on Is caved in. My honor's ‘graved in with the only thing That you saved from slavement. Kong. You n***as better Be patient. Let's get it raking for real

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