Soldier

I'm a soldier, soldier I'm a soldier, soldier Road Kill I'm a soldier, soldier I'm a soldier, soldier Down on one knee before we fight we say a prayer Soldiers ritual before we dance like Fred Astaire Slide my armor on and throw my helmet on my hair Sword in my right hand now every enemy beware, beware, beware I defend my Kingdom by all means Bastards won't even lay an eye, let alone a hand my Queen With every ounce of blood I shall bleed for the cause Your messengers are unwelcome to speak to me Lord Sincerely hope every word that you speak is insured Cause you'll die if I write to a beat and record And your men you'll lie beside them creeps in the morgue As your land burns to ash and your screams get ignored And the people thank me but I don't need a reward I'll be happy just knowing that real heat is restored These shenanigans carried on for quite too long May the sharpest arrow pierce every mic you're on This isn't difficult it's a matter of right or wrong King Radio forces people to like your songs Over here we give civilians the power to choose That's why it's such a Slaughterhouse when we devour you fools I fought many battles, endured many wars Disfigured the opponent with every scar that he wore I'm really so adored therefore I fuck princesses, you orally please the town whore And then you rhyme, maybe that's why you sound sore You are such a pig, you should lie around boar I don’t spit no, I announce raw Not a wrinkle in my flow cause I iron out flaws Pure perfection, my sword’s the best and When I die, don’t cry if I fall, it’s destined Just promise to tell my story to the youth And place my name in no category but “The Truth” Even tell them of how you caught me on the roof With the Queen on all fours, getting doggy, going woof No, don’t tell them that, I was just kidding around But only about you telling, I was gripping that crown! Yes it went down like anyone who's challenged me Wait a second **Jariq I gotta find a Allen key Damn my son he got me over here fixing his bike, while I write Now where we at?** Ah yes, picking a fight That's not a wise decision if perhaps the guy you picking 6 foot Peurto Rican and a chomp like Mike in Pippen With 2010 you couldn't see me despite your vision Poverty stricken lad to the kind of life I'm living I'm never going back to the places that I've stayed The garments that I wore and the weeks without a shave Lot of me old pals are in prison or a grave So every morning I awake you'll find me sharpening me blade My children shall be more than good when all of this is over Defender of hip hop until I drop, I'm a soldier