album cover
Pain
159
Hip-Hop/Rap
Pain was released on August 11, 1998 by Wu Music Group as a part of the album Dirty Weaponry
album cover
Release DateAugust 11, 1998
LabelWu Music Group
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM96

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Killarmy
Killarmy
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jake Childs
Jake Childs
Composer

Lyrics

"You'll feel some pain, but I know, you can here me"
"Get out of my head" *gun shot*
What, ("You feel some pain..")
It's like this, what, what
Check it out, yo
This is war, ****, a duel to the death
You better make sure your swords sharp and you got a lion heart
'Cause I strike for the throat
And stab them with a deadly note
That pierces the eardrums
Dose off the equilibrium, now you're stunned
Another victim of the Shogun, a spinal tap to the cerebrum
So, go ahead, try to run in advance
'Cause I stand firm on my warrior stance
Ready to behead you, dead you
Rid your body of a soul, and make it an empty vessel
Because your rhymes ain't punctual
Not actual or factual, that's why I verbally attack you
Yo, ayo, ayo, ayo, check this
Thousand dollar line for line paragraph causin' ruckus
Towards y'all weak motherfuckin' analog ****
Tryin' to come into the mist of my Digital shit
You get flipped on, snapped on your collar bone
And a spike, 'cause I don't like snake **** in my eyesight
'Cause I'm so agile and so quick to pull
My razorblade sharp sword out the case
And chop your face, disgrace y'all to another place with
No traces left behind, where the body was laid out
For the coroners to figure out
That it was one swing by the guillotine
That decapitated his head from his shoulders
Yo, we holdin' straps of fire to make gunmen retire
Or pristine slugs that penetrated your entire
Physical, that left **** critical
Killarmy the black son to make all fuckin' nine planets digable
With the science to control ninety-nine, keep all minds aligned
All the selfish will be dealt with by the nine
M-M stands for marksman, regard the last swordsman
Which chop off your head if you don't live accordin'
I sincerely love Allah Mathematics, camouflage fabrics
I got a revolver, fuck automatics, the black Asiatic
Lickin' multiple shots at your motherfuckin' attic
Get out of my head
Yo, I'm a legendary swordsman, bionic man like Steve Austin
Seven horsemen, Wu ninjas move across coarse sands
I murder **** with my bare hands
It's darkness in the Wu-caves
We hang crusades, salute grenades, the sixty waves like a raid
My pistol has an infrared, Desert Eagle
Loiter or lead, blast the brains out of apple heads
I leave MCs and DJs on twin set deathbeds
Underworld status, the Black Knight like Gladys
Destroy the midnight train, my domain is built like galactics
Beretta 9 the killin' machine
Shogun Assason is that **** who chases you in your dreams
Killa Sin will kill again with the same knife
The Thief of Baghdad could steal your life
P.R. Terrorist and Prince Saddam rules the middle-eastern region
It's razorblade season, so all you putty-faced **** is badly bleedin'
Yo, I'm like a landmine, schemin' on air-time
Keepin' on the standby flight and blow the crowd with their hands high
From Now Y, amplify sounds shut the coliseum down
First round, face down, lace clowns like a nightgown
Light brown, dick 'em down
Eyes wide as I recite, beamin' the mic
With satellites, tri-state cream
To travel right, fleein' the scene
Team fight with the livest MCs
So, Killarmy, strike your moment of silence
Live degrees, well you're eatin' them off
That's the reason why your legion fell off
You popcorns wanna be war pawns
The war's on now, and Al Pachino won the last of red dawn
Open mic session, bury you
Spark a party up, something terrible
The pain that my **** bring forth is unbearable
Yo, I'm tellin' you, it's….da fuck
Written by: Jake Childs
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