ANDRE NICKATINA lyrics - Bullets, Blunts In Ah Big Bankroll

Blood N My Hair

Original and similar lyrics
Blood in my hair from the wings of a hawk No angels guide me I seem to be lost Spittin a rhyme from divious ways All in the veins them freaks they get paid The path was layed the bed was set Nicky the cat from the fillmoe jets Here go the stealo it ain't that odd Kahn, money, clothes, broads Don't forget weed and rap for the gods Pages that rewrite the holy karahn Man I've been swervin since julius erving Ready to rap now so open the curtain Don't be in the lab when I'm doin bad Pencil's and pads they turn to cash This how I mash Driving so fast Shoes say wu when I step on the gas Baby is mad Man she got ass I looked and gave her my gangsta laugh My pedigree my legacy I sell it like aphetimines They told me at the dinner scene And I'm standing there high in my anchor jean Gangsta's, hustlers, hoe's and all Be one to pay when a rapper falls Blood in my hair from the wings of a hawk No angels guide me I seem to be lost It's mighty extreme to being a king Looking for people to be on the team How much money it cost to cheat To slow ya down and be drug free With? boots and sean john suits And exacution that top of the roof Who got the juice Show me some proof The curser the rhyme give me the loot Awake like an owl and drinkin some tea Watchin fights of muhamud ali Dodgin death with every step This is my rep give me the checks Like snaggle puss I'll step to the left With this freak death as quiet as kept My philisophy is tha boss of me Pass the hot sauce to me Usin diamonds and pearls to flauce with me I stand there with none Hot as a gun The sound of the noise will make you run Move from the slugs that will rip your lungs Look in the eyes of the greediest god Rollin the streets with the cadi? Cut through the rain like ninja blades The batter ramming slang the rage I got my game from project floors Weed, dope, and dice by the door Crush anything that'll cause a threat Talk to the bookie secure the bet Never with leniency he won't agree with me Gettin all mad when I make the call Gangsta's, hustlas, hoes, and all Feel the pain when a rapper falls Blood in my hair from the wings of a hawk No angels guide me I seem to be lost

To Dethrone The Witch Queen Of Mytos Kunn

Bal Sagoth
The Chronicles of War: The vast armies of Mytos K'unn, marshalled by a sorceress of great power known as Zyrashana the Witch-Queen, had been cutting a swath through the Eastern Kingdoms since high summer the preceding year. Empowering her troops with great sorceries, she had seen all opposition fall before the ravening swords of her forces since the first bloody campaign; the invasion of the ancient and noble realm of Delania. The aftermath of the final battle had seen the systematic slaughter of the Delanian royal family, and the torture and execution of all those who had been loyal to their banner. During the ensuing months, more kingdoms and satrapies toppled before the might of Zyrashana's legions, commanded by the fearsome and unswervingly loyal battle-lord Talus Ebonfyre, a man of sublime brutality whom many beleived to be possessed by a demon-spirit from the dark realms. Emboldened by their victories and the expansion of their queen's dark dominion, the hordes of Mytos K'unn began the incursion into the lands of the Northern Tribes, beginning with the grim and brooding territories south of the Snow Kingdoms... the rugged homelands of the warlike clans which had been recently united into a strong realm by the powerful warrior-king Caylen-Tor, a man known to his allies and enemies alike as the Wolf of the North. Thinking the barbaric tribesmen little threat, the Witch-Queen intends a largely unopposed march throught their lands to strike at the wealthy and fertile realms beyond the Mountain Kingdoms to the west... but Caylen-Tor has vowed that a searing torrent of blood and steel shall meet all those who deign to enter unwelcome or drive their standard unbidden into his land... As grim winter slowly yields to spring, the armies of Mytos K'unn begin their march northwards, and news of the advance of the Witch-Queen's forces into Blackhelm Vale, the valley known for centuries as the Gate to the Northlands, soon reaches the highland stronghold of Caylen-Tor. Grimly taking up his sword and spear and donning the woad of war, he vows that Zyrashana shall pay in blood for every league she has dared venture in his sacred lands. Scouts soon return with the information that the enemy is camped at the base of the valley, preparing to march with th dawn. The court shamans forsee rivers of blood and untold carnage, and great battlespells are woven as Caylen-Tor leads his vastly outnumbered Northlander warriors to the misty, moon-swathed expanse that is Blackhelm Vale. Legends say that the blood of many kings has been spilled on the dark earth of the valley over the generations, and Caylen-Tor promises to his grim gods that the earth will once again drink deep this night. With his army silent and brooding beneath the moon, he knows that whatever the outcome, this night shall see a legend of war written in blood and the deaths of men... a legend none shall soon forget... The War Testament of Caylen-Tor (On the Night of the Bloodying of Swords): O' grim gods of battle, empower us this night... Anoint us with the crimson rain, feed our steel with slaughter... Let every blow be a killing blow, grant us victory, or a warrior's death. Come, moon-fogs, Descend to cloak our numbers, the heady scent of battle beckons, My ash-hafted spear feels good in my hands, girt 'round with spells (our flesh gloriously) woad anointed, Ravens awaiting slaughter soar high above, blood-worms bloat on red carnage, I'll carve the moon-wheel in their flesh, as havoc churns the heather! A swirling mantle of mist-magic swathes us, powerful spells woven by the fen-witches of the great mere... Deep night and moon-mist shall be our allies as we surge into the fray! At my bidding, the fog clears for a brief moment, and I gaze down upon the valley to behold the army of the Witch-Queen... great tents arrayed upon the heather, powerful steeds tethered, the light from countless burning brands illumining the night, many warriors standing, weapons in hand... aye, all sword fodder. Entwined in war-fogs... Entwined by war-spells... Blessed in blood as raven-saters, slake the thirst of steel burning bright, Reap the harvest of spilled entrails, we'll return with many heads this night. The death-ravening black fury fills me, The spatter of hot blood seet on my lips, This yard of steel sings a deadly song in my grasp! Cleaving bodies left and right, a head falls with each swing of my blade, A storm of shafts screaming form yew-bows, (through their armoured ranks we shall) carve a path with steel, a blood-drenched swath! And the thirst of the earth shall be slaked with blood at the fields of carnage... A staggering sea of crimson, a towering mountain of ravaged flesh, All enraptured by the searing kiss of steel, All surfeit from supping deep of the grim chalice of battle... Brooding gods of the north, display to these outlander thralls thine ire, Envenom our blades with the death-kiss of a thousand serpents, Unfetter the dread war-wolves within us, That their claws may rend, and their jaws may be reddened. The bloodying is at hand! My spear hammers into the chest of a warrior, and bright blood erupts from his lips as he falls to the heather. I turn aside a vicious swordthrust and my own blade snakes out to cleave the neck of the attacker, shearing through his veins in a shower of dark red. An enemy blade opens my shoulder to the bone, but I sweep my axe out in a deadly arc, its iron head rending armour and biting deep into flesh. Talus Ebonfyre's abdomen yawns open and he staggers back as his intestines spew forth in a pulsing mass. I sunder his head with another blow as he falls and his skull yields to spill its steaming contents to the earth. As I watch, a writhing, shadowy form rises from the smitten corpse of the Witch- Queen's warlord and flees howling into the night... I vault to the saddle of a riderless black war-horse and seize the banner of Mytos-K'unn... for every one of us that has fallen, we have taken five of the enemy screaming with us... the battle is ours! Bright moon, gleam o'er moor and heather, wood and vale, deep fen and lake, Grim mountains crowned with snows, great rings of stones, black 'neath the stars, The storms extol our ancient glory, great mounds feed us, power from the sacred earth. With faith and steel we walk our shadowed paths, our blood runs as fire, swords blessed by sorcery. Wolves of the north, raise thine steel to the skies, revel in the pride of your wounds, Let our victory-song ride the winds of this blood-gorged eve, For on this night of red swords we have wrought a legend, Forged in the fires of our rage, and tempered with the spilled blood of the slain... O' grim gods of battle, empower us this night and always, Anoint us with the crimson rain, forever feed our steel with slaughter... Let every blow be a killing blow, grant us eternal victory, 'til we die a warrior's death. And so did Caylen-Tor turn the armies of Mytos K'unn back from the frontiers of his northern kingdom. Those enemy soldiers who fled the field as the mist lifted and their banner fell, are hunted down and brought to their knees before the king. Summoning a surviving warrior Mytos K'unn, Caylen-Tor gives unto him two gifts with which to return to his queen; one is the fallen, sundered banner of Mytos K'unn, the other is the cloven head of Talus Ebonfyre. The king's words ring out over the blood-drenched moor: Take this message back to your queen... if ever again she deigns to strike against my people, the slaughter this night will seem as naught compared to the havoc I shall visit upon her then. When news of the defeat and the fearsome message of Caylen-Tor reached Mytos K'unn, Zyrashana's spells of regal dominance waned, and her many courtiers and councillors, liberated from the imposition of subservience, plotted against their queen, 'til soon she was driven from the great royal palace by her own elite guard, her throne seized by an ambitious baron who had won the favour of the nobles and mages of the realm. Evading inprisonment and surviving only by her mastery of spellcraft, Zyrashana fled to the satrapies of the east, and nothing more was seen or heard of her for some considerable time... Lyrics: Byron Music: Jonny Maudling

The Song Of Words

GWAR "Violence Has Arrived"
In the keep of GWAR, much torment remains Despite all of the bodies hacked in twain So many had died in the viscous campaign That their femurs alone made a fine mountain The Master was no longer GWARs sovereign Of wealth and women they had none to gain What goal was left for them to attain So Oderus did call for conclave First came Balsac, his council was wise His War-Axe gleamed, he was a loyal knight Plus 40 dancing bears he did provide First in prowess, he stood his lord beside Beefcake the Mighty, his ass was wide Brought 80 laden oxen, he was a good ally Jizmak the Gusha, his legion was described For many hours he barked at the tribe But then, timely, the catering arrived Booze, drugs, food, 400 hundred mule-loads high Flattus Maximus, this he did supply And now the mighty brothers of GWAR did bind They willed to journey and slay without plan Bring seige and terror to the cities of man Open Oberammergau Like hell was a womb, it tore And from the womb the creatures poured Troll, goblin, Manticore Siege machine and armored whore There will be battle like never before The Surface World learned of the malaise Black Pope, usurper, he saw through the veil They plan their defense in the land of the wasted Africa, bitter fruit she had tasted Ensign of industry, let it be raised There the camp of the Black Pope was placed His legions breath, through the valleys the raced Charlots they rode, and their skulls were iron-plated Belching fire, freshly painted 8000 Battalions of Knights freshly sainted But before they fought, they were vaccinated To protect them from the AIDS that had been created To continue the reign of Black Pope unabated The people at home, got a version G-rated Here the GWAR invaded Began the violation The War Barges, forecastles swarming Disgorging the troops, formations forming The low drone of the horning Sounding out a call, then a warning A nuclear salvo where GWAR was encroaching Within a second 10 legions were toasting Balsac said, Did you feel something? The Lord was not boasting The enemy is vast, steel carpets the terrain Still they are forming, armor detrains They send forth a Captain, OJ by name Flattus struck him in the brain Burst the helmet, made two parts of the mind Chopped through his gorget, through chest, into spine And the good captains blood flowed like wine Flattus said, So ends a cowards time. Balsac is angry, he'll have no more He hurls his axe, with great effort To smite Regis with terrible force His shield breaks, his hauberk unsews The axe bursts through the chest and torso Bright blood spurts, the guts are loosed by the throw And with that axe the soul from body goes Said Jizmak, That was a heavy blow. Beefcake the Mighty, clotted with spew His sword falls, skulls burst in two The eyes burst from sockets, he is not through Thousands of warriors he does this to Piling up the corpses of those he slew Until it was hard to tell if the pile grew Balsac said, He is a princely lord Said Beefcake, Yes, it's true. Jizmak smites, his hammer whirls Foreheads explode, entrails twirl Breaking open brain-pans as well Red blood flowing as souls speed to hell Oderus smites the Black Pope, exposing his brain The blade continued through meat and membrane Bright blood flowed in the grass where he was lain Here ends this tale, that much is plain

Frozen In Time

Kataklysm
(Chapter 1 - Will Of Suicide) Here at Stonehenge I stand in front of my nightmare. Preparing to travel in a dream. = Far into a subconscious mindscape. The meditation begins today. = As the full moon passes away. Not knowing what's to tell. = Concentration of my inner self. As pure as a glass reflection. = I gain control of my matter and perception. With my Grimoire. = Near the altar at Stonehenge. Casting my conjuration. = Through mighty pronunciation. As the first word of power echoes... TIAMAT The moon becomes eclipse. = The one eyed typhoon. Absorbes the sky. = The winds amplify. With the smell of GORE GORE...GORE... BLOOD The... The yelling of the second word brings forth damnation... Come... THOTH I open wide my veins to unleash the putrid inside me. Escaping reality from my body. = Everlasting lust of death. Blood falls from the sky. = My staff held high. Capting energy from reality. = Breaking the flow time. Torment the spirit cry. = Lost into the agonizing storm. Deathless carion. = Light field protecting. From forthcoming damnless evil. = Focus my energy Creating a cone of lightning. = A black hole, an opening. Of a gate for my destiny. = Entering the world of ABSU I'm about to die. Vibrating, Body collapsed with my soul. Suffocating, My spirit sucked in the hole. Summoning, Demons from the ancient past. Binding, Negative forces within. Disintegrating, Unhuman beings. Deep in the hordes nest. = The battle of Damians. In the eternal darkness. = Azure of dark guardians. Attacked by entities. = Psyche power is fading. Abuse be mental aggressivities. = Terror, inflicted pain.=0BTrapped in trance, as I burn. Spiritual, Without time and existence. My lost hope, No escape, as I suffer. In my grave, In darkness, I will raise. From my fear, Infinity blind. Forever tortured, mind. FROZEN IN TIME...KUTU...

Garden Of Dreams

Kataklysm
(Chapter 1 - Will Of Suicide) Here at Stonehenge I stand in front of my nightmare. Preparing to travel in a dream. = Far into a subconscious mindscape. The meditation begins today. = As the full moon passes away. Not knowing what's to tell. = Concentration of my inner self. As pure as a glass reflection. = I gain control of my matter and perception. With my Grimoire. = Near the altar at Stonehenge. Casting my conjuration. = Through mighty pronunciation. As the first word of power echoes... TIAMAT The moon becomes eclipse. = The one eyed typhoon. Absorbes the sky. = The winds amplify. With the smell of GORE GORE...GORE... BLOOD The... The yelling of the second word brings forth damnation... Come... THOTH I open wide my veins to unleash the putrid inside me. Escaping reality from my body. = Everlasting lust of death. Blood falls from the sky. = My staff held high. Capting energy from reality. = Breaking the flow time. Torment the spirit cry. = Lost into the agonizing storm. Deathless carion. = Light field protecting. From forthcoming damnless evil. = Focus my energy Creating a cone of lightning. = A black hole, an opening. Of a gate for my destiny. = Entering the world of ABSU I'm about to die. Vibrating, Body collapsed with my soul. Suffocating, My spirit sucked in the hole. Summoning, Demons from the ancient past. Binding, Negative forces within. Disintegrating, Unhuman beings. Deep in the hordes nest. = The battle of Damians. In the eternal darkness. = Azure of dark guardians. Attacked by entities. = Psyche power is fading. Abuse be mental aggressivities. = Terror, inflicted pain.=0BTrapped in trance, as I burn. Spiritual, Without time and existence. My lost hope, No escape, as I suffer. In my grave, In darkness, I will raise. From my fear, Infinity blind. Forever tortured, mind. FROZEN IN TIME...KUTU...

Starfire Burning Upon The Ice Veiled Throne Of Ultima Thule

Bal Sagoth
Spears agleam in the dying sun, The blood is spilled, the battle's won, From the icy throne of God-King shall rule, When nine stars kiss the moon o'er Ultima Thule. [Old Northlander war-song, found in the ancient scrolls of Volmyr] The Final Part of Voryn Helmsmiter's Journey to the Ice Realm: Blood drips from my frost-encased sword, forming a crimson blossom upon the ice... My limbs cold, becoming as one with the massing snows... my eyes nearly frozen closed. For how long had we travelled? The memory grows dim, lost in the cruel, searing storm-winds. And now, at last... our quest is at an end. With the blessings of the elders we began our journey beyond the great veil of shadowed glaciers... They spoke of a prophecy foretold, an ancient and glorious legacy, A quest for the realm of legendry lost to man since before even the Star-Lords descended... Now, only I survive, my blood spilling to the ice, turning to crimson crystal upon the deeply frozen earth. Elder sorcery crackles and hums all about me, coursing through the sky, the snow... As grim destiny approaches with the freezing boreal gales and this ancient prophecy unfolds... [Predication of the Elders:] Go, follow the witch-lights in the northern night sky, beyond the great silvern mountains... Let the sacred moon-crystal be your guide, beware the sentinels at the Caverns of Eternal Mist... Spears agleam in the dying sun, The blood is spilled, the battle's won, From the icy throne of God-King shall rule, When nine stars kiss the moon o'er Ultima Thule. Swathed in moon-frosts, in icy winds our blazon flying, Iron gleaming 'neath the stars, black skies ablaze with astral fire, White wolves (like silent spirits) haunt us, ever northwards, the ice-gem leads us, glimmering, Powerful spells entwine the shrine of legendry, mighty gates of frozen splendour looming, When the moon and stars shine as one upon the snows, the ancient ice-gate opens, the prophecy is fulfilled! Towering, ice-encrusted forms lumber forth from the freezing mist, (Their eyes shimmering with a fiendish, eldritch malevolance...) Our steel is raised against their weapons of gleaming crystal, And the virgin snow is rendered crimson by bloodshed in a searing storm of slaughter. (Wounded, dying, my flesh rent by weapons no human ever forged or wielded, I am beckoned forward by a strange, alluring force from beyond the veil of swirling mists...) Shadows, images form in the glittering rune-carved walls of this glacial chamber, Secrets frozen within the timeless vaults of eternity... The throne of the time-lost ice realm, entwined in the mantle of such searing star-born power... This frozen, aeon-cloaked seat of immortal majesty... (of an empire forged long before the vast seas rose in devouring fury!) What shimmering swords raised in combat once sang with the glorious clamour of steel on steel? What splendid banners, billowing in the icy gales, once heralded the march of these invincible silverclad legions to the blood-swathed embrace of epic battle? The glory of untold thousands of years past... this ethereal legacy of mighty Ultima Thule. The frozen eyes of immortal kings watch me... such a dark splendour! The Guardian of Ice and Shadow: The grim Ice-Gods sleep in these frost-bound tombs, illumined by the caress of lunar fire, And the kiss of star-gleam from the stygian void... All is now as was foretold in prophecy, written in the very ether of empyreal eternity... The celestial alignment is night... the conjunction is at hand! And nine stars illumine the northern heavens, a vast cosmic sigil with the silvern moon at its centre... Blazing argent light fills the chamber, engulfing the hewn walls of elder ice, These ancient carvings in a time-veiled tongue, (etched into the primeval ice countless aeons ago, now bathed in diaphonous incandescence by this storm of lucent stellar power, their mindsearing meaning at last becomes known to me...) their cosmic secrets unfold... The ice-throne is encased by a shimmering wall of writhing cerulean flame, A lambent flame far colder than the frozen surface upon which it dances... And then, enlightenment comes, gleaming down upon my consciousness as the bright moon gazes down upon this auroral vista... From my mind is lifted an obscuring veil, a veil induced by sorcerous arts, and I realize I have been merely a vassal of another's twisted will, a pawn in a game which is entwined in treachery and malign aspirations to thresholds of great power. Such a traitorous web has been spun! The elders of my kingdom bow in obeisance to the vile priests of Xothan'kur, and it is their diseased machinations which have urged me here, to the very heart of the far-fabled ice realm... for they seek to usurp the power of the Conjunction, stealing the vast energies of the Ice-Veiled throne and absorbing them into their own leprous, undead bodies, pe rpetuating the adoration of their abhorrent liege for countless ages, liberating his vile will and enslaving the realms of the world... Aye, for generations they have plotted their actions, and I was the key to this plot, chosen from birth for this fated journey... for the blood of the ancient kings of Ultima Thule runs strong in my veins, and only once in every aeon may one such as I stand before the throne during the great cosmic alignment, when the sorceries of the ancient Ice-Gods are at their peak, and rightfully wield this power unleashed... And yet I vow that the vile minions of Xothan'kur shall not prevail... Liberating the fettered power of the moon-crystal, I sever the tendrils of their dark conjurings, and their aspirations are at an end, th eir spells broken by the very power which they sought to usurp! The final vestiges of mortal life flee my body in crimson gouts, and at last I realize what the fates have spun for me, and what is carved in the very ice all about me... My destiny is at ha nd... [The Herald of Enlightenment:] And so, enrob'd by tendrils of starfire and the raiments of lunar mist, The immortal liege whose sceptred empire is eternity, Sits enthroned and brooding over his dark realm once more. The last of my life's blood spills to the ice, (as star-wrought destiny is at last fulfilled.) Swathed in freezing flame... The mystic wolves of the frost-moon (slowly, silently) encircle me, Their eyes are blazing azure, and their fur is whiter than the sublime snows. Such power! I am the Chosen... the secrets of the earth and the stars are unlocked before me... I am destined to reign forever... to reign from the Ice-Veiled Throne of Ultima Thule! [Lyrics: Byron] [Music: Chris and Jonny Maudling]

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