The Reavers (ft. Hasan Salaam, billy woods, Keith Masters, AKIR, Spiga, and Goldenchild) - “Warrior (007 Platoon Mix)”
[Emcee(s): Hasan Salaam, billy woods, Keith Masters, AKIR, and Spiga]
[Producer(s): 007 (AKA Bond)]
[Hook/Vocals: Goldenchild]
[Verse 1: Hasan Salaam]
Dear Death
I still haven’t completed the test, so I live
Life in every breath and calculate my every step
Pay attention to the details ‘cause the tell-lie-vision tend
To slide lies by you like retroviruses through T cells
Everything’s for sale in this era of self-pleasure
Bеneath the surface of mascara, psеudos support sweatshops
When they shop at Macy’s to cop t-shirts of Che Guevara
I’ma tell you like it is. History sold by the survivors like Romans
Becoming Catholics after murdering the messiah. Some of the
Signs to decipher might confuse ya ‘cause their angles
Are sort of like Triangles off the coast of Bermuda
But barcodes on your neck is the future, so ATF kicking
Down my doors no different than urban warfare in Fallujah
You could consider this the ninety-five pieces of Martin Luther
Second shooter from the grassy knoll, virus in your computer
Modern-day Lion of Judah bring truth from the highest
So the only rock I’ll sling is able to drop Goliath
[Verse 2: billy woods]
You wanna fight?
Fight with we. Seventh grade out of Africa like
Killer bees, another monkey in the tree. Out of spite
They pushing buttons like an MPC, damn disgrace
Aight, American Me, lunchtray your face, and if it’s
One on three, pick the smallest nigga and pop his collar
Make the crowd holler, the bigger the brawler, the harder he gon’ hit that locker
You shook, dunny. The scholar who speaks proper, remastered kid with
Textbooks and social studies, lunch period or gym class
I ain’t had no homies, nigga, I had to swing fast
Ride for cheese, bust over and see cats got duffed, come home
With black eye like, “Mom, you should see the other guy,” let fly
With hammer hands, leave them blue, man, jam in Hammer pants
[Emcee(s): Hasan Salaam, billy woods, Keith Masters, AKIR, and Spiga]
[Producer(s): 007 (AKA Bond)]
[Hook/Vocals: Goldenchild]
[Verse 1: Hasan Salaam]
Dear Death
I still haven’t completed the test, so I live
Life in every breath and calculate my every step
Pay attention to the details ‘cause the tell-lie-vision tend
To slide lies by you like retroviruses through T cells
Everything’s for sale in this era of self-pleasure
Bеneath the surface of mascara, psеudos support sweatshops
When they shop at Macy’s to cop t-shirts of Che Guevara
I’ma tell you like it is. History sold by the survivors like Romans
Becoming Catholics after murdering the messiah. Some of the
Signs to decipher might confuse ya ‘cause their angles
Are sort of like Triangles off the coast of Bermuda
But barcodes on your neck is the future, so ATF kicking
Down my doors no different than urban warfare in Fallujah
You could consider this the ninety-five pieces of Martin Luther
Second shooter from the grassy knoll, virus in your computer
Modern-day Lion of Judah bring truth from the highest
So the only rock I’ll sling is able to drop Goliath
[Verse 2: billy woods]
You wanna fight?
Fight with we. Seventh grade out of Africa like
Killer bees, another monkey in the tree. Out of spite
They pushing buttons like an MPC, damn disgrace
Aight, American Me, lunchtray your face, and if it’s
One on three, pick the smallest nigga and pop his collar
Make the crowd holler, the bigger the brawler, the harder he gon’ hit that locker
You shook, dunny. The scholar who speaks proper, remastered kid with
Textbooks and social studies, lunch period or gym class
I ain’t had no homies, nigga, I had to swing fast
Ride for cheese, bust over and see cats got duffed, come home
With black eye like, “Mom, you should see the other guy,” let fly
With hammer hands, leave them blue, man, jam in Hammer pants
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