In the year 1982, a music was created.
It was given the title, Gangster Rap.
It had no positive messages, no redeeming value.
Hated and feared by the establishment.
It changed the course of the world.
Ride as Marshall Post,
cock the straps,
watch your back.
You know where you at?
You in urban combat.
Stay alert.
It's the attack of the tactical expert.
Putting in work and leaving your troops
wet strokes.
Your tactical rate is high.
I'm closing in.
Prepare for your ultimate end.
Tell your family bye.
Better cool like Ngon.
To shine like Ngon.
Pissing on you from Gon's for decades and gone.
Your squad has no muscle,
plus some minute hustle.
* scuffing up my knuckles.
Rather * you and watch you buckle.
I can't stand a snitch.
Let's switch real bitch.
I got some transcripts to say you've been running your lips.
Now it's on on sight.
If I see you, I'm a senior.
If I catch you in traffic,
I'm a if there's something in you.
Let you batter with death for the prize of life.
I learn to never come empty handed.
To a gunfight, my adversaries feel bright.
His last sight was the flash of light.
You said lightning couldn't strike in the same place twice.
I have your head on my death.
Fifty hundred tonight's your last night getting blunted.
The voices could not be stopped.
It began to morph and reinvent itself.
It grew like a black flame,
moving like a tornado from the west to the east coast,
leaving behind a path of destruction and mayhem.
Fix sights, fix scopes, infrared, no MMOs.
Stay low from the exchange, cycle deranged.
Play your lane, don't feel pain.
Kill a cock and mane.
I'm top frame in the game.
Use muscle for the hustle.
I zip duffle bags to muffle fags.
Scuff of my knuckles bad.
The niggas that think that they running *.
That feel the punishment.
Blood bath, the wrath.
Aftermath, lease the guns and *.
To underfallen cherubim to send them on the earth.
Mix seeds with dollars with men.
Since born from birth,
don't worry for the others.
Lord of war with my brothers.
I'm unstable like Cain did to Abel.
I'm at the staples, sinning from the beginning.
Leaving daddy's little girl pretty,
linen blood and red.
What's said in the book of dead is now all forgotten.
My soul's rotten.
Still the blood spill out them shins I'm still plotting.
My ill norm take life forms like light storms.
I laugh at the wrath of the gods coming on.
Visions of the antichrist has risen.
The question is now, am I forgiven?
Legend tells that the creator of this poison's name
was Ice. Although others have told different stories.
No matter who or what invented the monster,
their souls will be forever damned to hell.
To the death chamber, cash stretcher.
Leave your nutless,
cut this * with the rawest coat.
Double your dope, feel my back blast.
Body cash, your whole family media.
Greedy *, tag you out to Rad Jack's.
Speedy *,
looking at Scott before working,
busting.
No discussion, no stopping this apocalypse.
Locking logic clips, wanna be rich or dead.
Ripple fed, don't matter.
Cats scatter,
suckers get touched,
niggas get rushed.
* you, transform into animal form.
Wicked hell born, lord of the flies.
Crying you die, mechanomicon master.
Souls snatch a fallen angel.
All angles covered for you * god lovers.
Good suggestion, good suggestion, run.
Cuddle your funds, double your guns.
Watch your kids grow, stay on my flow.
Be wise, the magnificence.
Evidence, decadence, mine.
Seven sins, the abomination.
I'm fat nigga, last nigga, street mac.
How does my strap, ready * back?
Understand I never forgive.
Leaving bodies like slith.
Clap gas till my * *'s clipless,
niggas bear witness.
Like any deadly disease,
it has infected many men.
From the east, west, north, south.
Gangsta rap is now alive.
God forgive me.
God forgive me.