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let the trumpets blow lyrics (ft. young zee bard) - saurus & bones lyrics

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artist: saurus and bones ft. young zee, bard
alb-m: mind like mine
song: let the trumpets blow
typed by: kevin leaser

[young zee]
what up piff? doctor murder, 1-5 gang
we’re f-cking with missilanius today
whattup miss? let the motherf-cking trumpets blow
saurus, bones, what’s good? bard
man, yo dog, let the trumpets blow
don’t play that bullsh-t, n-gg-, b-tch, ira, let the motherf-cking
trumpets blow

[saurus]
what up young zee, dirty soc

[young zee]
it’s robbery time, that part of the season
when n-gg-s throw a mask and the army fatigues in
leave you naked like the garden of eden
body all wheezing, hardly could breathe in
jar of the trees and car of them ki’s and all that sh-t
we want it all and we leaving
i s-x things, got a bed in the red range
i fly a b-tch out to the nets game in a jet plane
they there like mascots, we them black sox
i give ‘em back shots and what have not
wanna brawl, bring your cousins and all
not just men, i’ll whip out and dump on a broad
any beef, i’m squeezing a piece
‘til i hear “stop motherf-cker, freeze, it’s police”
then i hear that the peeling will stop
i ain’t trying to go to jail for killing a cop

[saurus]
saurus, coming the craziest, runaway train
busting through gates, pummel your pancreas
nothing to play with, what an amazing double sensation
i’m nuttier flavor than whatever peanut b-tter is making
edgar allen poe, cutting the raven’s stomach with blades
an ugly fragrance, but it’s still raising poetry up from the grave
summon satan, fully functioning raiden
with thunder i’m caving your motherf-cking brains in
bounce, i’m mushing you with the van
like a bird lady, you shouldn’t have had a fan
you ain’t as bad as me, bruising you mahogany
leaving you in agony, please dude, soc on the beat
monster mash, my lyrics will carve your -ss
like pizza, chicago style uno’s sausage pan
missilanius super ultra unbreakable music
find us on any stereo system, stage, or computer

[chorus – saurus, young zee]
[s] above the rest and all my days i walk on clouds
[yz] let the trumpets blow
[s] no debate, you know we make the rawest sounds
[yz] let the trumpets blow
[s] and it seems like nothing you can stay can stop me now
[yz] let the trumpets blow
[s] missilanius, we came to rock the crowd
[yz] let the motherf-cking trumpets blow

[bard]
i should have stayed home instead i stepped out to rage it
congratulations, it’s your lady’s chance to picture me naked
i’ll spit until i’m out of spit, until my lips are split
while emcees look like b-tches more than twisted sister did
my target goal’s to harness flows that make your car just lift
i’m not that far from it, the sergeant don’t know what to charge me
with
the mental monster is a marksman, that threw up on the carpet
up inside of your apartment sparring naked like a spartan
when you hear the trumpets blowing people get -ss-ssinated
it’s the lyrical castration and our previous engagements
left these rappers lacerated, faded, and exacerbated
maybe rappers sound so brainless ‘cause i’m beating m-ssive brains in
i mix sh-t like a chemist, ain’t you got ears, you must have missed it
i make this sh-t look simple like a skilled olympic gymnast
i’m way too hard to stoop, i blaze more chronic than snoop
the only kids in here who murder words are part of my group

[bones]
you should think again if you talking like bones ain’t a lord
because i single-handedly conquered the world with a sword
the kings of majesty, trumpeteers blow with they h-rns
and we begin to stampede with hundreds of murderous songs
a brilliant masterpiece, unbelievably spoken
you need to reopen your deepest emotion to know it at all
rebuilding fantasies on the steeples, we’ve chosen
to equal the poets who keeping it growing like oceans and war
inside my veins, i keep icy frozen cyanide
mice don’t even try cause i’m twice what your insides are like
you’re out for gain like you’re michael moore and columbine
we keep you under pressure like hydrochlorothiazide
forfeit cause you’re only going to lose
we told you so and it’s true that you’re going home with a bruise
you can’t comprehend what i know of omens and tombs
what you spit’s childish from swollen fallopian tubes

[chorus]

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