Hip Hop Crusaders

Five tools
Through I rules and all five tools
A fine tool creatin' cyphers I
Provide to take the light
'Cause even seein' wouldn't explain where
The sight was yeah
But I learned to stay aware
Even with a slight buzz
My enemies wouldn't catch me slippin'
Why would they want to do that when they
Rather see me land on my back?
Strategic plans of attack prevent
That from happening, imagining
I would never get fucked like abstinence
Enough knowledge to make your wisdom sweat
Forget the vision let's add
The understand the math
I intersect what's left of the truth
Another
Falsehood, the wise cats always saying
"damn Chrome It's all good!"
Nah it ain't that I had to paint this
Track with my brains with a gat
Phone snare beware stay aware of that
Easy to squeeze slugs with
Hair triggers in fact
Really exact, bust through the amateur cap

King Syze SnowGoonS man we back again
Attacking with pens that'll tackle
An actual trend this is masters of revenge
Hip hop the crusaders
Spitting with razors to any muthafuckers
Try to slay us don't try to play us and not
Pay us we get antsy
I get gullied and attack like a chimpanzee
With this No 3 Beer
Drunk more vodka than beer
QD up in the air, yeah, we rocking this year
With a vision of fast dough
A blizzard of black snow
A bullet for assholes that's tryna
Master my rap flow
Hero material is what I'm giving you
I'm back in business I smack a wizard yeah
If he acting vicious
Ain't no difference on whoever you bring
'Cause uh
Whoever you bring is A under my wings
They lifting me up and slicing
The track stitching it up
QD in this bitch we don't give a fuck what

Yo, father please forgive 'em
Cuz they know not what they do
Then I please what live
In Kevin, inhale, exhale, breathe the rhythm
Shed blood in the name of
Love bleed this wisdom
Young Black Americans spread like
Disease in prison
And stare at you with ice cold freezer vision
Then the heaters lifted
Triggers squeeze and glistening
Like sun hitting the ocean while
The breeze is shifting
I'm from Philly homie home
Of Rasheed the Piston
Them jaws stay knocked up
And weed be twisting
While the fiends be itching
Sniffing feeling twitching
Ready to hit that line
Like Eagles DBs blitzing
Q-Demented yeah yeah, we be flipping
Spitting non-stop heat without
The needle skipping
So when the people ask who
They done see that spitting
Kev Turner be the name that
We need be mentioning, uh

They call me elephant boots
One man army salute
When the king step in fuck
It give him some room
Tear the track apart 300
Goons, all syndicated
Buddha smoke in my tomb
Live forever through my words that
The mass gon' consume i bash ya head in
Ever since a tyke in the classroom
Murder music head full of boom
3D doom you see me soon muthafuckas! Desert
Dream vulture pick ya bones clean
Nobody left they took the whole thing
The same brain with the bass and the drum
Shatter ya frame beware in the slums, fuckas
I stay in the street like cracks and bums
Where malice is from, where emotions are numb
We are hard gross callous, Snowgoons
Savage Brothers, Lord Lhus, beware

I feed off blood you would never
Catch me rocking no Versace
Keeping it rugged weak minds
Can never stop me
Lord Lhus soon to be rapping
Inside the tour bus
Spaced out like planet X outta
Town tryna score buds
Adore sluts keep 'em coming
Until my ego's fed
Or I'm hitting the streets with
Drugs making illegal bread
I breed the dead with Snowgoons
Rocking cult status
This the classic tracks I spit
On after I wrote madness
The flow's drastic like broken dams
The Son of Sam, gun in hand
And faggots pull dance moves like running man
Run with a clan down south
Rob you for two bucks
See me in the sticks with a
Shank stab and the Ku Klux
Give two fucks about nothing
Wrapping up Dutches standing in the street
Battling corny muthafuckas
I was born to drop bombs
They spitting with a diseased
Crew Murder your cypher and I'm
Living you diseased too
We taking over the game it's time 2009
Watch us shine like a gamma
Rhyme flee flow through time
Aftertime we rip it you
Know the style explicit
We get real loud when we kick it
You faggots bow to the wicked
Yeah, back on ya feet, spark up
The weed, till the sack's burnt
Packing up ya meat raw cuts from DJ Waxwork
Leave ya track cursed with my thoughts
Flip into evil
Run up on you with Det and my man DJ Illegal