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letra de supreme (black god's remix) - jus allah

[intro: jus allah]
yeah n-gga
what’s the f-cking deal
black gods n-gga
jus allah, chief kamach
what’s the f-cking deal my n-ggas
it’s good
yo, it’s a rap n-ggas, yo
check it out, yo

[jus allah]
jus allah is black god, runaway slave with back scars
devil won’t let me in the cave, i’m blackballed
n-ggas ain’t f-cking with the scientist, at all
for every five divine, there’s 95 slackjaws
i f-ck dimes, but i f-cked a couple wack jawns
p-ssy something that a n-gga just act on
i can’t help it, it’s magnetic attraction
i can’t melt in the sun, unless it’s p-ssed on
i’m the last born, the f-cking end all
marine tilting the machine like pinball
my n-ggas fiend for the green like a menthol
when the fiend doesn’t have a reed and some tin foil
we earn our stripes, turn out dikes
smoke out just like rubber when it burn off bikes
chief kamachi, n-ggas need to turn off mics
more ideology than you could learn off christ
scent ya motherf-cking mind, we the best that you’ll find
it’s like lightning, striking consecutive times
allah gave me extra shine, extra divine
the finest flesh mankind’s ever designed
you ugly motherf-ckers got a reason to be leaving now
it’s open season on the heathens in the region now
we forever foes, beef will never close
’til you laying in a pose in your dress clothes

[hook x2: scratching]
-call the president-
-we might lose control-
[?]
-don’t make me have to call your name out-
[?]

[verse 2: chief kamachi]
h-ll’s here, heaven can’t handle it
in the dark i keep the mirrors on the mantel lit
evil g*nius, black cadles channel it
cult-status, possessed by the amulet
keep my truce, fools trynna [?] it
smoke [?] from habibis on the [?] strip
god sovereign, on any land we pick
african k!llers, jesus can’t handle crips
jus allah, kamach, [?]
let me play with your eye, see if your spine work
too complex but this still is a cl-ssic
my voice make a cobra pop up out of a basket
it’s warrior blood on twelve inch plastic
i vanish with the vocals, [?] n-gga

[hook]

[verse 3: bomshot]
the hostel apostle’s aweful with the gospel, colossal
toss you in h-ll with pentecostals
i appear, white as a ghost though my heart is black
maybe cause i still shoot dope and smoke crack
i rock the mic like convulsions
see one man’s hand move mountains and part oceans
the t-tle taker, the idle breaker
and when we run out of blunts we burn bible paper
we on the run like we escaped from alcatraz
a horror fugitive [?] shabazz
bomshot, jus allah and chief kamachi
we [?], like tragedy khadafi
and knowledge is irrelevant your rap’s too delinquent
you can’t f-ck with us, your words are celibate
we crack jaws and silence your act frauds
all praises due to allah for creating black gods

[hook x2]

- jus allah

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