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Artist: Vinnie Paz
Album:  Season of the Assassin
Song:   Righteous Kill
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

Yo Finesse, what's the word God?
D.I.T.C. is in the building
Official Pistol Gat
Philly to the Bronx

[Vinnie Paz]
I'm a fuckin thunderstorm, youse a light shower
You a bitch, you shoot and miss like Dwight Howard
You can't battle the God, I'm too precise coward
That's like Khalid Muhammad sayin he's White Power
This the machete that your organs gettin sliced out with
The blind muh'fucker in the village, Bryce Howard
My brain only function proper in the night hours
You might own a fuckin label but the mic ours
My shit high-tech lord like a plastic bomb
An asshole, I punch people with glasses on
Anybody disagreeable we mashin on
I only fuck with green and gold God magic wand
An encore is the only thing that you clappin on
I'm a pitbull, pussy you a papillon
A bitch get a 40 from me, not a glass of Dom
I'm the G-29 in the assassin's palm

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
All I hear is danger, all I see is danger
All you hear is run, run, here come danger
Shatter dreams like Freddy your thoughts rearrange ya
Stare death dead in the eyes, it'll change ya

[Vinnie Paz]
It's a righteous kill, I don't do nothin but write and kill
Drink forties, smoke L's, push the white and krill
I move strong and fast, I have a bison's will
I'm the motherfuckin champ, I'm the fightin Phils
I'm from the city of the syrup and Vicodin pills
From the city where the most fearless of fighters was filmed
The city where we have the most street veterans still
The Moors, Nuwaubians, Five Percenters'll build
I'm from Philly muh'fucker, the rawest it comes
I make your body disappear I'm a sorcerer's tongue
You live your whole life in fear that the torture will come
I hope my music is revered like a portrait of Pun
I'm paranoid God, here in my fortress with guns
I had a void God, filled it with whores and with blunts
I ain't have a choice God, I was born in the slums
I ain't have a voice God 'til I slaughtered the drums


[Vinnie Paz]
RRRAH~! Yeah the four-fifth is a melon popper
Hollow tips spin your body like a helicopter
Anything can move God if you sell it proper
And I've been through more viewings than a teleprompter
This is horrorcore B got hella monsters
My team's got more G's than a spellin proctor
Y'all ain't never moved D, y'all are petty choppers
I got a vicious left hook, call me Eddie Thomas
(BRRAP! BRRAP! BRRAP!) But I'm raw with the right hand
Like Jack Johnson fightin against the white man
Yeah; I'm about to shorten your life span
Evil shit can be good if it's in the right hands
I make muh'fuckers burn, you a slight tan
I keep a motherfuckin urn on my nightstand
So wait your motherfuckin turn like a hype man
I bury you with the snitches under the white sand