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Ultramagnetic MC's - War lyrics
(feat. Gee-Banga)
 [Gee-Banga (Ced Gee):]
 Uhh, this real New York shit right here man
 You already know
 Kool Keith, Gee-Banga let's go
 (Ced Gee, Ultra, uhh)
 Uhh, uhh, yo, yo
 I wanted keys in my collection, so I loaded bullets in my weapon
 Put on my gear, gun in my hand, prepare for this 187
 See I'm a hustler, not a murderer
 But if you get on my fuckin nerves then I'm gon' have to murder ya
 Badder than stores that's from the Saudia{?}
 Pull out my tec, gunnin yout neck execution style and just slaughter ya
 Cookin them cracks that you be coughin up
 Really don't give a fuck about family or who you the son of daughter of
 You gon' really make me have to torture ya
 But that's my second name in the hood, you can call me the extortion
 G to the Danger is the enforcer of, G.K.B.
 and gangster shit that the streets could ever offer ya
 I always been less fortunate; so I fuck bitches
 Party and drink and blow that sticky to get up off of it
 When in reality you the talk of it
 So don't be surprised me cock back and be demandin you take off your shit
 [Chorus: Gee-Banga]
 This is war, son you know we always packin that 4
 And we puttin bullets straight through your door
 Plus we stayin on point cause we don't wanna fall
 If you get caught slippin you'll get killed for sure - brrrap!
 This is war, son you know we always packin that 4
 And we puttin bullets straight through your door
 Plus we stayin on point cause we don't wanna fall
 If you get caught slippin you'll get killed for sure
 [Kool Keith:]
 I'm international, worldwide traveller beyond that block shit
 You hear about it, y'all can't avoid it when I drop shit
 It's like takin a fat-ass sumo wrestler out with a dropkickUltramagnetic MC's - War - http://motolyrics.com/ultramagnetic-mcs/war-lyrics.html
 You get they rap careers started, my job is stop shit
 Piss on anything y'all spit
 Door #1, I can play Bob, Barker
 Your bitch can't bid here
 Better stay with the cock she picked, with sauce on her lip boss
 I fuck up your lip gloss
 Get your handicap games out nigga, cause you gonna limp across
 Like a slow man in the street
 Y'all niggaz put up your umbrellas up
 Nobody wanna fuck with my sunstroke heat
 That's on the strength~! After you leave, the car wash
 I shit on top of your Cherokee Jeep
 When I knock on the door
 Niggaz play like they not home, cause they scared to speak!
 Sleepin under beds, wrapped up in fuckin sheets!
 Sega Genesah nigga we finish a nigga
[Chorus]
 [Ced Gee:]
 Yeah, check it
 Dawg you cross me, you might as well take your own life
 See I ain't takin no prisoners son, I'm even murderin your wife
 Slaughterin all your kids, yeah, I'm that trife
 Then sit down listen to your rep and give a thorough sermon
 about the wrath of Christ
 Drink some hot cocoa, sleep well that night
 Then wake up in the mornin, and write some Ultra elevation
 Do a show in Italy dawg, then listen to a standin ovation
 Make a couple of songs in Haitian
 Spanish and Japanese, bee-da-dong-yong
 I'm great son, make no mistake son
 You sleep on me all you want, and I bet you they find yo' ass in a lake son
[Chorus]
 [Outro:]
 This is war...
 This is war...
 This is war...


















