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the oracle - vinnie paz lyrics

[intro: the notorious b.i.g.]
what i’mma hit you with you motherf-ckers better duck

[verse 1]
i’m a bull in a china shop, watch how the uzi spit
who we with, bros with hammers and they like too legit
i ain’t got any time for your foolishness
raw raps from the same place where the kufi sits
he the mo’f-cker always sippin’ goose and sh-t
stomp a rapper out, timberland boots and sh-t
the left hand is what i give you the contusions with
the right hand is where i write all of the ruthless sh-t
survival of the fit on my lil’ boosie sh-t
my hands are made of stone cut from that medusa sh-t
big gold chains, we was on that dookie sh-t
still run with the kids i stole the gucci with
i punch you dead in the face so f-ck the music sh-t
the guns commando, hollywood movie sh-t
y’all are weird, y’all on that lollapalooza sh-t
let the beard grow alhamdulelah, sofi sh-t
y’all are scared when i step inside the booth and sh-t
cuttin’ mo’f-ckers cell roll on some sushi sh-t
y’all are cowards, y’all only talk on computer sh-t
this a haitian ritual, i’m on my voodoo sh-t

[hook: samples]
find out who’s the realest (vinnie)
rock it not quick
what i’mma hit you with you motherf-ckers better duck

[verse 2]
death before dishonor, tiger blood y’all are fake
i let the .45 blocka blocka rob his cake
dead sea overlook the view from inside a grave
the dictionary definition of dominate
ya’ll weed germantown brown lord, lots of shake
fat bull, but my pockets never out of shape
you a b-tch, security guards lock the gates
the louis vuitton bootleg, prada fake
i’m tryin’ to make the same money that madonna make
eyes never lie, i’m surprised that you not with jake
rhymes in one take, record an album in an hour straight
you a pile of waste, i see a sucker and salivate
cutting motherf-ckers off, time to consolidate
a thousand pounds of weight’ll force your heart to palpitate
it’s armageddon for you motherf-ckers, lock the date
any b-tch i meet means that i’mma copulate
my revolution will be met with peter tosh’s fate
that’s the reason that the god is tryin’ to populate
a connoisseur, i can tell you how the vodka taste
the .45 lift you, send you into outer sp-ce

- vinnie paz lyrics

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