Hip Hop Crusaders

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Knowledge] Five tools, through I rules and all five tools A fine tool creatin' cyphers I provide to take the light 'Cause even seein' wouldn't explain where the sight was yeah But I learned to stay aware even with a slight buzz My enemies wouldn't catch me slippin' Why would they want to do that when they rather see me land on my back? Strategic plans of attack prevent that from happening, imagining, I would never get fucked like abstinence. Enough knowledge to make your wisdom sweat Forget the vision let's add the understand the math I intersect what's left of the truth, another falsehood, the wise cats always saying, "damn Chrome It's all good!" Nah it ain't that I had to paint this track with my brains with a gat Phone snare beware stay aware of that Easy to squeeze slugs with hair triggers in fact Really exact, bust through the amateur cap [Verse 2: King Syze] King Syze SnowGoonS man we back again Attacking with pens that'll tackle an actual trend This is masters of revenge, hip hop the crusaders Spitting with razors to any muthafuckers try to slay us Dont try to play us and not pay us we get antsy, I get gullied and attack like a chimpanzee With this No. 3 Beer, drunk more vodka than beer QD up in the air, yeah, we rocking this year With a vision of fast dough, a blizzard of black snow A bullet for assholes that's tryna master my rap flow Hero material is what I'm giving you I'm back in business I smack a wizard yeah, if he acting vicious Ain't no difference on whoever you bring 'Cause uh, whoever you bring is A under my wings They lifting me up and slicing the track stitching it up QD in this bitch we don't give a fuck what [Verse 3: Kev Turner] Yo, father please forgive 'em, cuz they know not what they do Then I please what live in Kevin, inhale, exhale, breathe the rhythm Shed blood in the name of love bleed this wisdom Young Black Americans spread like disease in prison And stare at you with ice cold freezer vision Then the heaters lifted, triggers squeeze and glistening Like sun hitting the ocean while the breeze is shifting I'm from Philly homie home of Rasheed the Piston Them jaws stay knocked up and weed be twisting While the fiends be itching, sniffing feeling twitching Ready to hit that line like Eagles DBs blitzing Q-Demented yeah yeah, we be flipping, spitting non-stop heat without the needle skipping So when the people ask who they done see that spitting Kev Turner be the name that we need be mentioning, uh [Verse 4: Qualm] They call me elephant boots one man army salute When the king step in fuck it give him some room Tear the track apart 300 Goons, all syndicated, Buddha smoke in my tomb Live forever through my words that the mass gon' consume I bash ya head in, ever since a tyke in the classroom Murder music head full of boom 3D doom you see me soon muthafuckas! Desert dream vulture pick ya bones clean, Nobody left they took the whole thing The same brain with the bass and the drum Shatter ya frame beware in the slums, fuckas I stay in the street like cracks and bums Where malice is from, where emotions are numb We are hard gross callous, Snowgoons, Savage Brothers, Lord Lhus, beware [Verse 5: Lord Lhus] I feed off blood you would never catch me rocking no Versace Keeping it rugged weak minds can never stop me Lord Lhus soon to be rapping inside the tour bus Spaced out like planet X outta town tryna score buds Adore sluts keep 'em coming until my ego's fed Or I'm hitting the streets with drugs making illegal bread I breed the dead with Snowgoons, rocking cult status This the classic tracks I spit on after I wrote madness The flow's drastic like broken dams, the Son of Sam, gun in hand And faggots pull dance moves like running man Run with a clan down south, rob you for two bucks See me in the sticks with a shank stab and the Ku Klux Give two fucks about nothing, wrapping up Dutches Standing in the street battling corny muthafuckas I was born to drop bombs they spitting with a diseased crew Murder your cypher and I'm living you diseased too We taking over the game it's time 2009 Watch us shine like a gamma Rhyme flee flow through time Aftertime we rip it you know the style explicit We get real loud when we kick it, you faggots bow to the wicked Yeah, back on ya feet, spark up the weed, till the sack's burnt, Packing up ya meat raw cuts from DJ Waxwork Leave ya track cursed with my thoughts, flip into evil Run up on you with Det and my man DJ Illegal