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ARMAGEDDON



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ARMAGEDDON

Dance With the Devil

Shoot him again!
Why?
Hes still dancing! Ha ha ha
You wanna dance with the devil nigga?
Who wanna dance? we could throw the hands make the music stop
We could pop and lock till my mans let the buddah pop.
Hit a running man, make his cabbage patch do the wop.
Silva Mac 10, make him backspin, (planet rock?).
Aerosol flow, spray it till yall know em.
Like spit from beat street defacin what yall wrote
Amazin the way I crush MCs like hard Coke.
Stop em out! Give em the beat like Tony (?).
This is me saying, I blow heat out the throat
When I leak that pyro speech niggas is toast
and Im deep like Hip Hop Police (on each coast?)
The X is back, rest in peace to BO
But yesterday is gone, so fuck stressin the hard lesson,
Lets get it on with the strong defence like Artests.
The loves gone and my hearts restless,
Im goin hard like the first terror squads Armageddon.
But you can dance with the devil if you like,
But if you gon dance, know you dancin for your life.
Now run and tell ya man Armageddons gon get him,
Dancin with the devil they gon die to rhythm.
Die to the rhythm, motha fucka gon bleed,
Try to tangle with me, Ima kill him to the beat.
The same thing go for anybody ridin with em.

Die to the rhythm!
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(?) body frame (?)
Choreograph yo murda, call it art with a burna
(?) horror rap (?)
To dance you to sleep then autograph your sheet with my urine
Geddys pain be the purest, no man can endure it
Im sick in the head, no amount of meds could cure it
Its code red when Im on the mic, clear the building
I spit flames, the fire might engulf the ceiling
Leave em coughin, feelin nauseous with the chills
So of course this makes me officially ill.
Kill em flawless, geddys graceful with the steel
So take caution or die faceless when I peal.
Now you neva gon dance again like G. Michael
Cause you aint got no rhythm & the streets dont like you
Leave a rapper on the dance floor dyin & shakin
Thats what happens when you dance with satan.
Bring in the chorus.
(Chorus)
(?) with the devil when the pale moon light
Hold hands with the devil tryin to plead for your life
I got a pitch fork, a shovel, and a possessed flow
And Im pissed off beyond any level youll know
So you dont wanna know me, the rap Aleister Crowley
Sacrificin whack rappers, black magic ceremony
This is what it be. I put the glizzy to your cheek
And blow the back out yo bony skull cap on beat.