Git Cha Gully Up

Lyrics

[Featuring: Outerspace] [Verse 1: Crypt The Warchild] I'm in the pitch black with midnight marauder Play it low but I will kidnap your daughter I take what's mine, I don't wait around for any offers Fresh off a world tour like I just ran for office I'm on some Jedi Mind shit, this is brain slaughter Insane author, publishing and painting torture Never be a ghost, remain in my physical form Go to war with anybody, this is Desert Storm You never catch me talking shit on a message forum But if your man got words I got a message for him Official pistol lifts you, slip yo, rip through bone tissue Twist you, separate your fucking nerves when the chrome hits you So if you got grown issues then state your biz You got beef? Then claim it, don't say that it's his You got faith in God? Then pray that you live You like to walk with the Devil? Then faith what it is You pick your poison, I'll sip a potion and spit an ocean Keep your neck inside my palm and watch me rip it open You bitches hoping the barrel smoking will get me choking But I'm a goon by blood, that shit'll get me focused [Chorus] If you insane in the membrane waving an M16 with a beam Get your money up If you got beef in your reach where you eat and you sleep Niggas deep when they creep Get your gully up If you a soldier, a rider provider, and ride for the cause, you the boss Get your money up If you insane full of rage with a gauge still trapped in a cage all day Get your gully up [Verse 2: Planetary] If I push snow at the Snowgoons it wouldn't be illegal Would Illegal come through with more goons and the Desert Eagles My people be shovelling bodies right up off the sidewalk All of the above my nigga, let's get these pies off Never the type to see beef and slide off Only happened once, they tried to cut my life short But now I'm thirty-one with a dirty gun Four kids deep, I dare you niggas to hurt just one One is enough to get your cranium cracked I bulldoze like Pujols deranged with a bat I came for the cash and I ain't leaving broke now My gasmask is made of glass bitch I'm focused now Warchild more foul, I'm caving your gums in More wild Trojan Horse style, trample gunmen Nigga and my dungeon filthy Sure it's ice grilling knowing motherfuckers is guilty In a courtroom with a pitchfork and a spoon Feasting off all the blood that was forced in the womb Orbit the moon, I'm awkward with a torch in your tomb Cremating your soul, hope they choke off the fumes [Chorus]