Visual Camouflage Songtext
von Army of the Pharaohs

I lay puzzled, as I backtrack to earlier times
When Amen-Ra constructed temples of unearthly design
Astrologists who follow us attempt to search for a sign
Now cops bother us, follow us to search for a nine

Asking apathy to kill it in a verse or rhyme
Is ridiculous, would you ask the Silver Surfer to shine?
I would murk you, murder you, turn you burgundy with the burner
Burst your bubble, snuff you, upper cut you, like you had nerve to

Touch a Kurdish Virgin in a burqa, yelling, Derka Derka
Insert you inside the dirt vertical, from the inertia
Of falling out a 30-story building, like a steelworker
Sipping bourbon and burpin′, wobbling, bobbing, it's curtains

Straight to the ground, hard enough to crack through the crust
I don′t care if you black or a cracker, you rappers get crushed
Even as a whippersnapper, no one badder than us
Cursing and cussing, flipping cars off from the back of the bus, Pharaohs


Yeah, I got a reason to slaughter these villains
Kept the diary of all of these officer killings
Fuckin' Moranos, keep harassing my dogs in the village
But, I got vet that I no OGs that'll, come up on a piglet

I see the fiends, don′t get mine, they′ll just burn in they cells
Grimy niggas, that be pissing on floors in the jail (yeah)
Couple family members, selling their soul for a pill
I felt betrayal in a physical form of a deal

Real, they should've kept me on my fuckin′ leash
In the backyard with them brawlers that be crushin' teeth
I never been a Houston Oiler, just a fuckin′ beast
Flushing careers down the toilet, understand? Capisce

I'm the God of rap, Paz is just evil and vessel
I shut your motherfucking mouth, while I′m speaking represso
Vinnie snatch, a motherfucker, I'll steal a capesso
Slaughter-cal article Oracle, he gets a vessel

Why would I ever question whether he was successful?
Murder rapper, you dirty rapper eatin' a cesspool
I have a hundred motherfuckers that′s eager to check you
And a bunch of Sicilianos that′s eager to get you


I never felt any remorse, never seen me regretful
The nine circles of Hell is for the demon essential
I feel like 'Pac when he sees through the threshold
I′m Bray Wyatt dummy, you ain't too eager to wrestle, yeah

Squeeze the pretzel, reason I met you
Was either to wet you or breath in your mental
And leave your essentials
The reason I treat ′em like suckas, they fucking suckas B
It's not a feature list, it′s names of people that can't fuck with me

Ruptured teeth, structured beef more than Epic Meal does
Crack your egg with a 40, watch where the steel does (ha, ha)
Kitchen cuisine, position supreme
Sick with the scheme, the victim's your team

I don′t need liquor, but lean to make ′em viciously scream
Rather use the muffle
You sell drugs and use drugs and confuse it with hustle
Them steroids big you up while abusing your muscle
Break your circle, turn around, and then use it to cut you

Oh, you a UFC fighter? (Word)
Let's see if you could be a Uzi survivor
I′ma shoot on arrival
Get money, and rob jewelry (ya heard)
Let them shots turn your Diddy Bop to a Funky Watusi (ha, ha)

You will contort and have a seizure (yup)
No barbers here, but we'll put a part in your Caesar
Scan my QR code and see an AR scope
You won′t be seen again 'til we do a Séance show

And my AK though? Got a knife on the tip
For anybody want action, put a price on the bitch
I pay marketing teams to promote my records
I get paid to promote gun violence and talk reckless (what?)

My Saint Bernard keep a artillery in his barrel (good boy)
This ain′t a magic wand or baton, it's just that Tec with the airholes (yes)
I spray that Tec in the AM, make you sway in the morning (ah, ha)
And at night, it's just your family, crying, praying and mourning (ah, ha)

Verrses ain′t bias, yo, Eso, ain′t hired help
You can find Zeus die himself, I'm a hunter
Orion′s Belt wrapped around my waist
Lion's pelt wrapped around my face
Seamus Ryan melts tracks, your lord

I don′t pop molly, or rock Tom Ford
You riding shorty in a Hoopty, you in Tom's Ford
I don′t listen to that new shit, I'm a psychopathic vinyl addict
Put the needle on a record, let me grab it

Bars are automatic, no casual listeners
They're all fanatics, no actual prisoners, they gotta have it
Like ghetto, I didn′t grow up listening to heavy metal
I was on a Rakim diet, but find me in that metal mask from Quiet Riot

I incite a riot when I spit bull
Dressed like Pitbull
Walk in the lab, that swears to God he′s a Pitbull
Servin' ′em well, you could get touched
I got the reach of Nerlens Noel

Scalp them, scalp them and hang them up high (ha, ha, ha, ha)
Scalp them, scalp them and hang them up high (right)
Scalp them, scalp them and hang them up high
Scalp them 'cause tonight them all gon′ die