Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): Albert J Johnson, Kejuan Muchita
Tweet this Song Follow Mp3Lyircs on Twitter
Send "Apostle's Warning" Ringtone to your Cell
Mobb DeepApostle's Warning Lyrics:
Uhh God, uhh, y'know what we gotta do son!
Y'know hu tI'm sayin' Word up! Make that millions fam!
No doubt! It's only there for the takings son
Matter of fact let me get some of that beer son
We drunk all that shit, hey yo!
44th Side convention, Queens connection the Bridge be rep'tin
Any party that we step in get they heady-up
V S O P immediately, extra bent Rob then out son is evident
We stash cream, mansions fulfill my dream
Ice 'reams gleam, spread love throughout the whole team
Dominate the game, let's have a rule, combinations
No conversation, bring all ya good confrontation
You hesitatin, ass spittin, that's bad business
For the game nigga, get out the business
You waste space, substitute here's the briefcase
We deface, smack the smile off ya fuckin' face
Tainted taste, send ya home back to vacate
Get your shit together plus your mind straight
Yo my empire strikes with the strength of poisonous snakes
My entire unit loaded up with snake niggas that hire stakes
We pull off a high stakes, great escapes, expand, shift team downstate
Dreams are growing over and my son'll live great
Little man I'm plannin to enhance your mindstate
The rebirth, a nigga who lived an ill life
The one before me was of an even more trife
My understandin, I'll raise you with precise plannin
And put you on to the whole game of this planet
But I gotta survive in order to follow thru plans to live lot-o
Me and my lil' getgo, any man tryin to stop us he get wet-o
He couldn't withstand the snake bite, there is no hanky
Don't you put your hands too close and try to approach
I won't snap at you I'm goin for throats
And when you feel my bite 'cha sing high notes
I peeped you from deep and then you got cut throats
My formula I live life do or die
Stare into the eyes of a deep wiseguy
Prodigy turnin' niggas to protoges
My protege I advise ya ass to make way
Make way for fully-auto gun spray
You're small prey, I'll easily bait and trap yea
This man is half mad scientist-half sane
Creative rhyme labyrinth like poisonous cannabis
Here take a toke of this daily rare roackalist
Overpower y'all, tiny noise like locust
Like sunlight through a magnifying glass I'll focus em
Burn a hole straight through ya brain and leave ya open
(Oh shit!)
And let the venom soak in you start sweatin' a
And goin' through convulsions from dope shit I write
Leavin' niggas stuck, I let spit
Trapped up in a web of a nigga that's sick
I'll wrap you up in cocoon, you caught up in the midst
As dangerous as risky business fuckin' with this
Contender number one I put you on top of the list
You're the best challenger so far I'll give you this
But peep this, what? Fatal shots that soloplex
Man down, now who dares to go next?
Like General Monk monk orders to chop necks
I send a message to my whole clique to bomb shit
Atomic, no time for calm shit
We hyperactive and it's time for Vietnam bit
Ya whole alliance gets single handedly bomb-ded
Take heed to the apostle's warning word up!
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
See this song in a different language (automatic translation)
