Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hell Baby, artist - Bunny Lake. Album song The Church of Bunny Lake, in the genre Иностранный рокDate of issue: 13.09.2007
Record label: Klein
Song language: English
Hell Baby |
| The roof go back like it’s vintage |
| The young boy’s back to burn your village, the fire touching the ceiling burn |
| What’s God willing when HOVA retired? |
| Now he back, guess he got some competition on his hands |
| Who is that? |
| I… am… |
| K-Dot, I’m claustrophobic don’t put me in the box with you niggas |
| You can’t categorize me |
| I’m already convinced that I’m the hottest nigga out |
| Any comments? |
| I thought so |
| You niggas is gassed up like ALCO |
| Scared to play Madden on All-Pro |
| Step your game up |
| I’m here to fuck up niggas' barcodes |
| SoundScan’ll never read your albums again (whoo!) |
| I take 99.9% of your fans |
| The last one left is your moms (and she even iffy about you…) |
| Ain’t nothing gifted about you |
| Put a bullet in you, tell a doctor get it up out you |
| I’m 'bout to, send him right there, he shark food |
| Piranhas is coming I put beat on you rap dudes |
| I don’t wait on you rap dudes |
| Nigga NASA couldn’t reach my altitude |
| Sky’s the limit, and your body ain’t airborne… |
| Is it? |
| Are you? |
| My real niggas, once again it’s on |
| 'Til we load the ammo and drop the bomb |
| I kick up destruction and when I’m done |
| My city blow them horns, it sounds like… |
| WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOO!!! |
| When they blow dem horns I’m coming |
| Torch in hand-- yes, I’m running |
| I told you Rock, I like red too |
| But you gotta kill these niggas out the blue |
| They don’t see it coming |
| Who ain’t a part of the family tree |
| Dude like Paul Bunyan, axe about him |
| We travel like an ant colony, you can’t count us |
| Sip Henny 'til my throat drown |
| New Benz, No Malice |
| Count money 'til our hands get calloused |
| 40 caliber in the Cavalier, welcome to Los |
| Angeles, you might leave with bandages |
| Real life, no mannequin |
| You pull out, no panicking, you better shoot |
| Or have something fall on your rooftop, no raindrops |
| I’m talking 'bout gold bullets and black suits |
| No magician, no magic, POOF |
| Closed casket fatal attraction |
| Son 3 hit you like John Paxson, I ain’t bullshitting |
| Them veterans been loved 'em |
| Talk about bars I got a life sentence of 'em |
| And I’m just like spitting cousin, ciao |
| No man get the best of him |
| The way I see, why rap? |
| I’m just wasting my breath |
| Y’all don’t hear me |
| I’m just chasing my death |
| It’s all over, the end’s here so I’m pacing my steps |
| Try not to recollect what I know |
| These pregnant quotes meaning, they give life like semen |
| Be the reason my heart’s bleeding |
| I’m coughing up blood in my palms as I recite the book of Psalms |
| Over a slow clap and kick drum, wis-dom |
| The application of your knowledge is me |
| Pay your tuition, this verse is like a college degree |
| Y’all don’t hear me, y’all feel me like a doomsday prophet |
| When I’m focused, nothing under the moon can stop me |
| I leave you off the Earth’s surface, that’s what you get |
| For trying to test my patience like nurses |
| This ain’t a verse this is a Kennedy curse |
| Put your brain on your lady’s purses, you niggas’s crazy |