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letra de machine gun prayer (a new era has begun version) - mr. voodoo

agu (aka mr. voodoo) – “machine gun prayer”
[emcee(s): agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
[producer(s): looie ii]

[intro: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
ah, yeah, yeah, yeah, mhm, yeah, chryme life. agu, yo, yeah

[hook: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
my eyes wide-open, but i’m asleep. if i should die
lie leaking in the street, i pray the lord
my soul to keep ‘cause when it’s my
time to go, i’m waiting for the lord, holding heat

[verse 1: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
who trying to tell us that we ain’t the most felonious?
unholiest zealots blasting ‘til it’s only us
y’all got it erroneous. my entourage and me
the coin in the dodge, forever “s-h-i-n-e.” without flaw
i radiate and shine, my lines come in quarters, eight dimes
y’all n-ggas write rhymes, i orchestrate crime
n-ggas want to see my mortal rate climb, leave me laid up, getting food
from a tube or in a pool of blood with a slug in my head
forget about it. cats is hate-driven, bugged in the head
hate you living, love you dead. had a near-death experience
in a drug spot, huddled-up, gun in a prayer
position, my man’s blood puddled up. player, listen
we can creep and burst through thoughts of death, dance like the grim
reaper in a jeep commercial. saw his body leak
extra sh-lls in my mouth, i could hardly speak, told them i’ma
show ‘em what h-ll about when the shottie squeak

[hook: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
‘cause my eyes are wide-open, but i’m asleep. if i should die
lie leaking in the street, i pray the lord
my soul to keep ‘cause when it’s my
time to go, i’m waiting for the lord, holding heat
my eyes are wide-open, but i’m asleep. if i should die
lie leaking in the street, i pray the lord
my soul to keep ‘cause when it’s my
time to go, i’m waiting for the lord, holding heat

[verse 2: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
my nine
scars in conflicts, speak behind bars like convicts
ain’t a thug, i’m a criminal. tainted drug is k!lling you
like crack and grand marnier. don’t need an army, just a gun
and, as an army of one, i stand like the army say
must be the dom in me, the chardonnay or traum in me ‘cause all
rappers getting is claps like nominees. y’all got noth’ in common with me
cats phony, nothing real in ya. that cartoon
thug fat tony more real than ya. y’all ain’t never been in
the midst of shady crews. the boys in navy-blue will f-ck with who
they want, so be careful ‘cause it may be you or baby crews
that turn from brats to brutes with gats to shoot, and to k!ll you is
the only way that they can earn an attribute, sn-tching loot
from users and buyers, losers, snakes, and liars, snitches wearing
wires. we all gon’ burn in a lake of fire. jakes inquire
they want me to snitch, so i snitched, gave ‘em
a list of names of n-ggas that’s dead in a ditch

[verse 3: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
y’all hope
it’s sweet, but the critically acclaimed author of the gangland
injure you critically and maim, and crime and rhyme
physically the same. i cop a few pieces
extra icy, give rappers two-pieces extra spicy
with clappers, i’m extra sheisty. all i do is d-ck chicks
and pole dyk-s, and drop unpredictable like dice. i’m convictable
to the vice, make covenant with game. no alias
i hustle using my government name. the state
wanna give me an 848 ‘cause, in its eyes, it’s like
i’m running a continuing criminal enterprise. who do i trust?
v’s who i trust. n-ggas in the game like d’s
‘cause when it comes to rhymes, they buy and bust. i’m like
eddie murphy with dreads, singing, “k!ll the white people”
pretty but lethal like a 24-karat gold desert eagle
brooklyn’s resident evil. between you fools and i
you are the weakest link. goodbye

- mr voodoo

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