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letra de armageddon - lance lucid

[verse 1: lance lucid]
now my fates on the mic, it’s time to get ready for war
metal plates on my chest along with battle axes and swords
quit poking my f-cking cage, i’m not one to entice
f-ck it, i shoot flames from my hands like i am fire and ice
now i burn the dollar bill, now i ain’t searching for fame
you see me walking towards you, framed, illuminati, hussein
feel the mother f-cking wrath that i’m about to bestow
i hit your brain at light speed like the sound of a crow
yeah the worlds in my grasp, domination’s bound to happen
sound the h-rns, grab the guns, because i’m sparking off the cannons
everlasting my name you mother f-ckers dropping like flies
f-ck sitting next to the king malice is my only design

[hook ]
get ready for war now this mother f-cking battles my life
get the guns get the bullets, it’s the way that i write
get ready for war, i’m not your mother f-cking foe or your friend
get the bows get the bullets, i’m bringing earth to its end
get ready for war now this mother f-cking battles my life
get the swords get the shields its the way that i write
get ready for war, i’m not your mother f-cking foe or your friend
i bringing the armageddon, bring this f-cking earth to it’s end

[verse 2: lance lucid]
now i wouldn’t ask for mercy, so f-cking ask me to stop
i crucify the wicked by tying them on top of a rock
so run along with the flock, you belong in a motherf-cking metropolis
steady bouncing back on the c-ck, you’ll never stop the apocalypse
now i can exterminate the way you live, but you can’t hide
your a roach on the wall that can’t hide, i’m committing genocide
death by a thousand knives, i’m always on my hustle and grind
now every evil thought you felt starts connecting with mine
i wouldn’t be talking sh-t because i’m just not one to provoke
i’m the type of guy to sit back and watch you get strangled and choked
being real is to the point where i just can’t explain it
gravitated, m-st-rbated, hunting b-tches down because i’m agitated
i’m a martyr with a bullet, mortars k!lling founding fathers
rhymes going farther, wrote it, quarters, nickles dimes and dollars
the way i spit doesn’t even match to my flow
i murder mics and burn pages leaving your f-cking -ss in the road!

[hook]

- lance lucid

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