[{"id":1973490,"name":"Fibre Optic Weapons","trackName":"Fibre Optic Weapons","artistName":"Vinnie Paz","albumName":"Camouflage Regime","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Tragedy Khadafi]\nYo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\nTracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\nAnti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\nLevels to the game and all type of wild stages\nScarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\nConnected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\nInnovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\nHeadshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\nLines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\nProduct of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\nSomething you could only find inside the deepest pavement\nLike God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\nStill banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\nForever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\nIt's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\nWe seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\nUp to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\nWorshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\nIn front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\nAge of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\nSmite the devil in majestic bliss\nGlobal conquest, effortless,\nI gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\nMy mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\nLike [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\nCome-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\nBloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\nGrab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\nAttract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\nBut they shot the windows out where your kids\nLive, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\nA goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\nThe yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\nAdherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\nPolice could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\nIf you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\nI was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\nListen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\nDressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\nHe looked for God but he gonna find the devil\nBut God finds his vessel, water finds its level\nThere's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\nAnd the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\nHomie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\nIt's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\nI got 13's they will pick up the deuce\nIt's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Fibre Optic Weapons\n  artist: Vinnie Paz\n  album: Camouflage Regime\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Tragedy Khadafi]\n  Yo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\n  Tracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\n  Anti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\n  Levels to the game and all type of wild stages\n  Scarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\n  Connected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\n  Innovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\n  Headshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\n  Lines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\n  Product of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\n  Something you could only find inside the deepest pavement\n  Like God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\n  Still banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\n  Forever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\n  It's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\n  We seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\n  Up to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\n  Worshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\n  In front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\n  Age of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\n  Smite the devil in majestic bliss\n  Global conquest, effortless,\n  I gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\n  My mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\n  Like [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\n  Come-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\n  Bloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\n  Grab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\n  Attract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\n  But they shot the windows out where your kids\n  Live, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\n  A goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\n  The yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\n  Adherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\n  Police could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\n  If you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\n  I was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\n  Listen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\n  Dressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\n  He looked for God but he gonna find the devil\n  But God finds his vessel, water finds its level\n  There's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\n  And the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\n  Homie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\n  It's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\n  I got 13's they will pick up the deuce\n  It's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore\n"},{"id":37891071,"name":"Fibre Optic Weapons(Explicit)","trackName":"Fibre Optic Weapons(Explicit)","artistName":"Vinnie Paz","albumName":"Camouflage Regime","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Tragedy Khadafi]\nYo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\nTracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\nAnti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\nLevels to the game and all type of wild stages\nScarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\nConnected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\nInnovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\nHeadshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\nLines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\nProduct of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\nSomething you could only find inside the deepest pavement\nLike God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\nStill banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\nForever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\nit's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\nWe seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\nUp to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\nWorshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\nIn front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\nAge of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\nSmite the devil in majestic bliss\nGlobal conquest, effortless,\nI gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\nMy mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\nLike [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\nCome-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\nBloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\nGrab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\nattract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\nBut they shot the windows out where your kids\nlive, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\nA goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\nThe yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\nAdherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\nPolice could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\nIf you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\nI was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\nListen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\nDressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\nHe looked for God but he gonna find the devil\nBut God finds his vessel, water finds its level\nThere's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\nAnd the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\nHomie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\nIt's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\nI got 13's they will pick up the deuce\nIt's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Fibre Optic Weapons(Explicit)\n  artist: Vinnie Paz\n  album: Camouflage Regime\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Tragedy Khadafi]\n  Yo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\n  Tracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\n  Anti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\n  Levels to the game and all type of wild stages\n  Scarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\n  Connected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\n  Innovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\n  Headshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\n  Lines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\n  Product of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\n  Something you could only find inside the deepest pavement\n  Like God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\n  Still banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\n  Forever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\n  it's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\n  We seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\n  Up to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\n  Worshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\n  In front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\n  Age of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\n  Smite the devil in majestic bliss\n  Global conquest, effortless,\n  I gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\n  My mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\n  Like [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\n  Come-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\n  Bloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\n  Grab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\n  attract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\n  But they shot the windows out where your kids\n  live, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\n  A goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\n  The yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\n  Adherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\n  Police could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\n  If you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\n  I was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\n  Listen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\n  Dressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\n  He looked for God but he gonna find the devil\n  But God finds his vessel, water finds its level\n  There's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\n  And the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\n  Homie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\n  It's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\n  I got 13's they will pick up the deuce\n  It's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore\n"},{"id":12228002,"name":"Fibre Optic Weapons","trackName":"Fibre Optic Weapons","artistName":"Vinnie Paz, Tragedy Khadafi","albumName":"Camouflage Regime","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Tragedy Khadafi]\nYo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\nTracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\nAnti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\nLevels to the game and all type of wild stages\nScarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\nConnected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\nInnovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\nHeadshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\nLines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\nProduct of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\nSomething you could only find inside the deepest pavement\nLike God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\nStill banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\nForever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\nit's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\nWe seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\nUp to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\nWorshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\nIn front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\nAge of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\nSmite the devil in majestic bliss\nGlobal conquest, effortless,\nI gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\nMy mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\nLike [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\nCome-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\nBloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\nGrab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\nattract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\nBut they shot the windows out where your kids\nlive, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\nA goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\nThe yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\nAdherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\nPolice could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\nIf you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\nI was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\nListen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\nDressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\nHe looked for God but he gonna find the devil\nBut God finds his vessel, water finds its level\nThere's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\nAnd the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\nHomie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\nIt's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\nI got 13's they will pick up the deuce\nIt's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Fibre Optic Weapons\n  artist: Vinnie Paz, Tragedy Khadafi\n  album: Camouflage Regime\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Tragedy Khadafi]\n  Yo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\n  Tracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\n  Anti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\n  Levels to the game and all type of wild stages\n  Scarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\n  Connected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\n  Innovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\n  Headshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\n  Lines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\n  Product of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\n  Something you could only find inside the deepest pavement\n  Like God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\n  Still banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\n  Forever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\n  it's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\n  We seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\n  Up to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\n  Worshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\n  In front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\n  Age of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\n  Smite the devil in majestic bliss\n  Global conquest, effortless,\n  I gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\n  My mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\n  Like [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\n  Come-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\n  Bloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\n  Grab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\n  attract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\n  But they shot the windows out where your kids\n  live, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\n  A goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\n  The yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\n  Adherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\n  Police could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\n  If you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\n  I was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\n  Listen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\n  Dressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\n  He looked for God but he gonna find the devil\n  But God finds his vessel, water finds its level\n  There's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\n  And the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\n  Homie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\n  It's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\n  I got 13's they will pick up the deuce\n  It's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore\n"},{"id":40198330,"name":"Fibre Optic Weapons","trackName":"Fibre Optic Weapons","artistName":"Vinnie Paz;Tragedy Khadafi;Ill Bill","albumName":"Camouflage Regime","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Tragedy Khadafi]\nYo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\nTracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\nAnti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\nLevels to the game and all type of wild stages\nScarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\nConnected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\nInnovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\nHeadshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\nLines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\nProduct of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\nSomething you could only find inside the deepest pavement\nLike God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\nStill banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\nForever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\nit's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\nWe seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\nUp to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\nWorshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\nIn front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\nAge of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\nSmite the devil in majestic bliss\nGlobal conquest, effortless,\nI gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\nMy mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\nLike [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\nCome-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\nBloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\nGrab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\nattract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\nBut they shot the windows out where your kids\nlive, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\nA goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\nThe yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\nAdherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\nPolice could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\nIf you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\nI was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\nListen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\nDressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\nHe looked for God but he gonna find the devil\nBut God finds his vessel, water finds its level\nThere's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\nAnd the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\nHomie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\nIt's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\nI got 13's they will pick up the deuce\nIt's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Fibre Optic Weapons\n  artist: Vinnie Paz;Tragedy Khadafi;Ill Bill\n  album: Camouflage Regime\n  duration_ms: 246857\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Tragedy Khadafi]\n  Yo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\n  Tracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\n  Anti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\n  Levels to the game and all type of wild stages\n  Scarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\n  Connected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\n  Innovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\n  Headshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\n  Lines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\n  Product of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\n  Something you could only find inside the deepest pavement\n  Like God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\n  Still banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\n  Forever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\n  it's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\n  We seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\n  Up to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\n  Worshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\n  In front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\n  Age of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\n  Smite the devil in majestic bliss\n  Global conquest, effortless,\n  I gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\n  My mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\n  Like [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\n  Come-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\n  Bloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\n  Grab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\n  attract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\n  But they shot the windows out where your kids\n  live, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\n  A goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\n  The yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\n  Adherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\n  Police could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\n  If you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\n  I was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\n  Listen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\n  Dressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\n  He looked for God but he gonna find the devil\n  But God finds his vessel, water finds its level\n  There's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\n  And the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\n  Homie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\n  It's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\n  I got 13's they will pick up the deuce\n  It's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore\n"},{"id":10945910,"name":"Fibre Optic Weapons","trackName":"Fibre Optic Weapons","artistName":"Paz, Vinnie & Tragedy Khadafi feat. Ill Bill","albumName":"Camouflage Regime","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Tragedy Khadafi]\nYo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\nTracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\nAnti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\nLevels to the game and all type of wild stages\nScarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\nConnected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\nInnovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\nHeadshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\nLines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\nProduct of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\nSomething you could only find inside the deepest pavement\nLike God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\nStill banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\nForever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\nit's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\nWe seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\nUp to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\nWorshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\nIn front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\nAge of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\nSmite the devil in majestic bliss\nGlobal conquest, effortless,\nI gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\nMy mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\nLike [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\nCome-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\nBloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\nGrab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\nattract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\nBut they shot the windows out where your kids\nlive, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\nA goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\nThe yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\nAdherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\nPolice could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\nIf you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\nI was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\nListen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\nDressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\nHe looked for God but he gonna find the devil\nBut God finds his vessel, water finds its level\nThere's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\nAnd the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\nHomie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\nIt's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\nI got 13's they will pick up the deuce\nIt's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Fibre Optic Weapons\n  artist: Paz, Vinnie & Tragedy Khadafi feat. Ill Bill\n  album: Camouflage Regime\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Tragedy Khadafi]\n  Yo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\n  Tracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\n  Anti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\n  Levels to the game and all type of wild stages\n  Scarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\n  Connected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\n  Innovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\n  Headshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\n  Lines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\n  Product of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\n  Something you could only find inside the deepest pavement\n  Like God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\n  Still banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\n  Forever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\n  it's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\n  We seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\n  Up to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\n  Worshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\n  In front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\n  Age of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\n  Smite the devil in majestic bliss\n  Global conquest, effortless,\n  I gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\n  My mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\n  Like [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\n  Come-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\n  Bloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\n  Grab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\n  attract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\n  But they shot the windows out where your kids\n  live, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\n  A goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\n  The yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\n  Adherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\n  Police could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\n  If you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\n  I was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\n  Listen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\n  Dressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\n  He looked for God but he gonna find the devil\n  But God finds his vessel, water finds its level\n  There's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\n  And the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\n  Homie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\n  It's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\n  I got 13's they will pick up the deuce\n  It's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore\n"},{"id":10484453,"name":"Fibre Optic Weapons","trackName":"Fibre Optic Weapons","artistName":"Vinnie Paz & Tragedy Khadafi feat. Ill Bill","albumName":"Camouflage Regime","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Tragedy Khadafi]\nYo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\nTracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\nAnti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\nLevels to the game and all type of wild stages\nScarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\nConnected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\nInnovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\nHeadshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\nLines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\nProduct of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\nSomething you could only find inside the deepest pavement\nLike God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\nStill banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\nForever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\nit's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\nWe seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\nUp to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\nWorshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\nIn front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\nAge of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\nSmite the devil in majestic bliss\nGlobal conquest, effortless,\nI gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\nMy mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\nLike [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\nCome-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\nBloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\nGrab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\nattract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\nBut they shot the windows out where your kids\nlive, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\nA goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\nThe yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\nAdherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\nPolice could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\nIf you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\nI was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\nListen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\nDressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\nHe looked for God but he gonna find the devil\nBut God finds his vessel, water finds its level\nThere's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\nAnd the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\nHomie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\nIt's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\nI got 13's they will pick up the deuce\nIt's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Fibre Optic Weapons\n  artist: Vinnie Paz & Tragedy Khadafi feat. Ill Bill\n  album: Camouflage Regime\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Tragedy Khadafi]\n  Yo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\n  Tracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\n  Anti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\n  Levels to the game and all type of wild stages\n  Scarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\n  Connected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\n  Innovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\n  Headshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\n  Lines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\n  Product of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\n  Something you could only find inside the deepest pavement\n  Like God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\n  Still banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\n  Forever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\n  it's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\n  We seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\n  Up to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\n  Worshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\n  In front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\n  Age of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\n  Smite the devil in majestic bliss\n  Global conquest, effortless,\n  I gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\n  My mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\n  Like [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\n  Come-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\n  Bloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\n  Grab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\n  attract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\n  But they shot the windows out where your kids\n  live, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\n  A goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\n  The yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\n  Adherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\n  Police could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\n  If you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\n  I was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\n  Listen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\n  Dressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\n  He looked for God but he gonna find the devil\n  But God finds his vessel, water finds its level\n  There's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\n  And the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\n  Homie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\n  It's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\n  I got 13's they will pick up the deuce\n  It's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore\n"},{"id":6573572,"name":"Fibre Optic Weapons (feat. Ill Bill)","trackName":"Fibre Optic Weapons (feat. Ill Bill)","artistName":"Vinnie Paz & Tragedy Khadafi","albumName":"Camouflage Regime","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Tragedy Khadafi]\nYo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\nTracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\nAnti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\nLevels to the game and all type of wild stages\nScarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\nConnected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\nInnovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\nHeadshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\nLines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\nProduct of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\nSomething you could only find inside the deepest pavement\nLike God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\nStill banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\nForever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\nIt's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\nWe seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\nUp to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\nWorshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\nIn front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\nAge of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\nSmite the devil in majestic bliss\nGlobal conquest, effortless,\nI gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\nMy mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\nLike [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\nCome-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\nBloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\nGrab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\nAttract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\nBut they shot the windows out where your kids\nLive, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\nA goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\nThe yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\nAdherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\nPolice could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\nIf you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\nI was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\nListen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\nDressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\nHe looked for God but he gonna find the devil\nBut God finds his vessel, water finds its level\nThere's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\nAnd the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\nHomie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\nIt's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\nI got 13's they will pick up the deuce\nIt's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Fibre Optic Weapons (feat. Ill Bill)\n  artist: Vinnie Paz & Tragedy Khadafi\n  album: Camouflage Regime\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Tragedy Khadafi]\n  Yo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\n  Tracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\n  Anti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\n  Levels to the game and all type of wild stages\n  Scarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\n  Connected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\n  Innovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\n  Headshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\n  Lines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\n  Product of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\n  Something you could only find inside the deepest pavement\n  Like God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\n  Still banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\n  Forever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\n  It's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\n  We seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\n  Up to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\n  Worshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\n  In front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\n  Age of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\n  Smite the devil in majestic bliss\n  Global conquest, effortless,\n  I gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\n  My mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\n  Like [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\n  Come-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\n  Bloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\n  Grab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\n  Attract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\n  But they shot the windows out where your kids\n  Live, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\n  A goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\n  The yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\n  Adherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\n  Police could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\n  If you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\n  I was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\n  Listen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\n  Dressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\n  He looked for God but he gonna find the devil\n  But God finds his vessel, water finds its level\n  There's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\n  And the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\n  Homie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\n  It's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\n  I got 13's they will pick up the deuce\n  It's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore\n"},{"id":1973489,"name":"Fibre Optic Weapons (feat. Ill Bill)","trackName":"Fibre Optic Weapons (feat. Ill Bill)","artistName":"Ill Bill feat. Vinnie Paz & Tragedy Khadafi","albumName":"Camouflage Regime","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Tragedy Khadafi]\nYo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\nTracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\nAnti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\nLevels to the game and all type of wild stages\nScarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\nConnected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\nInnovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\nHeadshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\nLines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\nProduct of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\nSomething you could only find inside the deepest pavement\nLike God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\nStill banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\nForever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\nIt's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\nWe seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\nUp to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\nWorshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\nIn front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\nAge of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\nSmite the devil in majestic bliss\nGlobal conquest, effortless,\nI gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\nMy mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\nLike [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\nCome-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\nBloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\nGrab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\nAttract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\nBut they shot the windows out where your kids\nLive, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\nA goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\nThe yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\nAdherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\nPolice could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\nIf you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\nI was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\nListen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\nDressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\nHe looked for God but he gonna find the devil\nBut God finds his vessel, water finds its level\nThere's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\nAnd the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\nHomie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\nIt's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\nI got 13's they will pick up the deuce\nIt's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\nI got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Fibre Optic Weapons (feat. Ill Bill)\n  artist: Ill Bill feat. Vinnie Paz & Tragedy Khadafi\n  album: Camouflage Regime\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Tragedy Khadafi]\n  Yo, yo, yo, I ain't gotta get on my knees, Makhi is too gracious\n  Tracking device is in the bag, I ain't gotta chase it\n  Anti-everything, except green, I'm a racist\n  Levels to the game and all type of wild stages\n  Scarred up inside the booth, you embrace my rages\n  Connected with Vinnie and pass me a bag of lasers\n  Innovative, fire lines like all my food is cajun\n  Headshots take 'em out, so we do more than graze 'em\n  Lines like it came from the mind of Wes Craven\n  Product of struggle and pain, basically what it gave 'em\n  Something you could only find inside the deepest pavement\n  Like God or Satan, made the most outta this arrangement\n  Still banging and still reporting, look how he lay 'em\n  Forever right for the course, the boss, look how he lay 'em\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid,\n  It's hardcore, for the B-boys, kid\n\n  We seen the presidents in black robes and pointy hoods\n  Up to no good, worshipin' burnin' owls in the woods\n  Worshipin' burning towers as they stood to collapse\n  In front of the world and the cloud of burning bodies to soot\n  Age of vengeance, essence of death, exorcist\n  Smite the devil in majestic bliss\n  Global conquest, effortless,\n  I gave him 10 bitcoins for 11 bricks I'm forever slick\n  My mind spray shootout with the CIA, jump to Stargate Ubers\n  Like [?] in a William Cooper stupid super\n  Come-for-shoot-your-mother cult, leader-of-four-hundred cult\n  Bloody kin to sin, a hungry dysfunction destruction\n  Grab uzi, aim, shoot, insta-Beirut,\n  Attract a grapefruit, she wanna rock a chain to stay true\n  But they shot the windows out where your kids\n  Live, eat shit and die, your new name is \"shit list\"\n\n  A goof do goofy shit, homie you a sucka\n  The yappa had 'em sleepin' in his whip, I give ya a trucker\n  Adherence to the Sunnah and his word is word of mother\n  Police could talk to you and get a name, 'cause you a sucka\n  If you wanna get some [?], get a pound from the pub\n  I was nothin', homie, then I got it out of the mud\n  Listen, the Sig Sauer make his family tremor\n  Dressed in all black like somebody lost a family member\n  He looked for God but he gonna find the devil\n  But God finds his vessel, water finds its level\n  There's goons here, they was plotting robberies out\n  And the semi Barrett, it'll take your arteries out\n  Homie was OG and did a bit in Walla Walla\n  It's never mask off, it's only a balaclava\n  I got 13's they will pick up the deuce\n  It's a G-36 and it's big as a moose\n\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore, it's hardcore\n  I got somethin' for the B-boys, kid, it's hardcore\n"}]