Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 2 Killaz, artist - Above The Law. Date of issue: 29.08.2012
Song language: English
2 Killaz |
| «Okey what we have here?» |
| We have a 187 black male, fictim of possibly 18 years of age… |
| Gun shot wound to the head… |
| Look like he is been dead of possibility 2 hours «uha» |
| When we received a phone call quite sometime ago… |
| But you know how it’s when people have to come down into the Park |
| And don’t nobody wanna come down here… |
| «yeah, were any witnesses step forward?» |
| Shit, witnesses down in this motherfucker? |
| Who’s the fuck is gonna come forward down here… |
| «Okey, well let’s get this area tipped off |
| Let’s move these fuckin people back outta the way, behind the tape |
| Let’s get those cars outta here and get that car down here |
| And pick up this motherfuckin dead body» |
| I want all y’all motherfuckers get the move in this shit |
| Everybody get back, everybody get back |
| Hey you. |
| you. |
| you. |
| yeah |
| Take the, yeah, take the tape overthere, would you please |
| Okey, man, it’s always a killing in the park |
| It’s all like everyday, if you want some tray |
| If you want some gun play |
| Straight killas in the park… |
| Straight killas in the park… |
| If it ain’t that right time of the day |
| I think you better walk around the other way |
| Straight killas in the park… |
| Straight killas in the park… |
| Watch young brother now watchin me get game |
| Well let me tell you about this little spot |
| Where we check by the block mate, yeah it’s servin' |
| Straight claimin killas in the park |
| Put some out for my dead homies and my niggas stuck to the rock |
| If you look up in the ride you’ll see this |
| Regals, colorists, foes, trays and big fat black Doodle |
| Light posted hundred smokes for my folks, and case of Hennessy |
| A couple of pounds of this stinky trees |
| A few rats with mobile phone to keep calling the shit |
| Let’s know when it’s on |
| Even rollin chick inside worse and worst got beef |
| Dwellin, while we still drug sellin' |
| But y’all don’t heard that shit from me… Oooh baby please |
| What y’all know about killas in the park |
| That’s the drums sound 40 felons holdin ground |
| And I aid across you by the little B.G.'s- Ghetto Boys |
| Cause y’all couldn’t see this, they will known me enemies |
| Straight provin to help us with that chicken movin |
| Nine times outta ten |
| We tell 'em meet us at the park at the dark |
| To see where your nuts at |
| 20 niggas with straps, 20 more with they packs, fully automatic |
| My people stalk to see me, smelling like a gang with me |
| Leavin niggas start killings in the park… |
| «Niggas in the Park» |
| Nigga who in the fuck you think you’re talking to |
| Nigga you won’t remember shit when come through, out your coma |
| It’s compton and pomona |
| Killas in the park from Cali' to Arizona |
| You can’t walk through the park, niggas crazy of the dark |
| Keep your hand on the gun or nigga you’ll be on the run |
| Niggas camoflauged in the night |
| Packin Desert Eagles and 22's nigga fuck the fight |
| And fuck them police that be thinkin they slick |
| With they headlights on, tryin to creep, they can suck a fat dick |
| Take your pig in the pimp clinic |
| Stay your ass out the park cause this crazy niggas be off in it |
| But I see you niggas there selling 'lley |
| Hitting switches with your bitches every motherfuckin day |
| So beware of the killas in the park |
| And get your ass on before it get dark, uhh niggas… |
| You got to watch your back for the po-po's, creepin up out suburb-os |
| Come on up the creep, for your works and your heap |
| Deepest think then can get. |
| I gets the fuck about the one time |
| It’s just another player heater tryin' to take mine |
| Yo, we regulate the buck them dawn to dusk |
| So if the one time one, stash your gauge, you’ll shut the fuck up |
| Cause they be comin with that black killing black |
| You better watch your back because the streets full of pack |
| Think it to myself yeah I’ma dump motherfucker |
| Got me y’all off? |
| tryin to act like ain’t did nothin' |
| But 'til the minute I slipped |
| Yo, they’ll all up in my mamma house trippin this shit |
| It’s like my homies used to say |
| If it gets that deep you got to put the motherfuckers to sleep |
| And make the park once more won’t safer |
| Cause dumb shit comin between we and my paper |
| He that be in the park gettin rolled up? |
| It be that nigga Short stopper sellin' cut up |
| Yo, he ain’t the homie, so we can’t check |
| It ain’t personal nigga it’s respect |
| Yo, if I ain’t part on swings, I’m in the basketball court |
| I’m in the T-shirt, chuck T’s and cut off Khaki short |
| Junkies come and call me lil' boot camp |
| I’m goin and see now, I’ma screamin New child |
| Yeah, big ball going off like the mugg man, it’s 9−1-1 man |
| Stash the gold, take by the wrong man |
| I just served then I ain’t this trick |
| Uhh, now we gettin restart quick |
| I turned around and said fool you’re a snitch |
| I shot him in his junky-Ass-Bitch |
| I’ma killa from the park… |