Lyrics Ego Death (Raw Dog) - Shadow the Archangel

Gea
Yeah I thought I told y'all don't play with me, dog
I was doing R&B, I was singing, I was minding my business
Then y'all wanted to play with me
(STAA Brands)

I been waiting on a rapper to come and think it's sweet
Thinking you Colombian and all Americans weak
Grew up in the ghetto, not even sugar or bread to eat

I been waiting on a rapper to even attempt speech

Grab you by your chain and choke (You look silly)
Until the struggle ceases (Uh)

Bend until your body creases

Hoping one of you would stand on this land mine
Storing all this raid until the perfect time
Shooting all of your shooters then aim at your medulla
You think you getting money
These dollars these not pesos
While you burning
Wounds make you remember
Demons don't play with angel

You gon' need whole the industry
To even try to end me
Better get your money up
Buy a feature from Jay o buy a feature from Drake
That is the only possible way
You could escape your fate (Too rich, too comfortable)

Even then, might be collateral
End up on a plate
Look me in my face, you can tell I am a lover
But the hood forced me to fight
The trenches made me accustom, accustomed to the sight
Violence

(Kingdom of Heaven taken) by it
I dare you to try it
I can do it better

I been waiting on a rapper come and think it's sweet
Thinking you Colombian and all Americans weak
Grew up in the ghetto, not even sugar or bread to eat

I been waiting on a rapper to even attempt speech

Grab you by your chain and choke
Until the struggle ceases (Uh)

Bend until your body creases

Hoping one of you would stand on this land mine
Storing all this raid until the perfect time
Shooting all of your shooters then aim at your medulla
Baby face Shark'll d-d-d-do it to you
I promise that I'll tutor tool aim at your temple
Or pew-pew -pew-pupils. It is my solemn oath
I swear to God that I'd school you
Don't make me do it to you
Wind hollers with hollows
The graphic scene that follows
My hooligans are still hungry
Nothing around me scary
Undertakers ready to bury (They ready)
Ain't tales with the fairies (They ready)
I hit 'em up

I been waiting on a rapper come and think it's sweet
Thinking you Colombian and all Americans weak
Grew up in the ghetto, not even sugar or bread to eat
I been waiting on a rapper to even attempt speech
Gea
Now