Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mortuary Number, artist - Cellski
Date of issue: 28.03.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Mortuary Number |
See, I’m like 2Took |
All over niggas look |
When I be posted |
Some niggas walk through in a drop stain |
Like muggin, gettin toasted |
See we like slittin the cust or grab the gats |
While them marks walk through |
See Harvard’s a dead ass street |
So we will like have to bust at you and uh |
I think them marks are down the way-way |
So bay-bay |
Start bussin caps for the grave homies in jay-jay |
It must have been a lucky day |
That 351 was out there barkin |
They got away clean and smooth while my niggas was steady sparkin, see |
I know the drama’s gone be on |
I phone, to my brother Took cause he the backbone |
He be like organizing the violence that take place up on this blocc |
You fuck around with this posse, you might wind up gettin glocked |
GiggityGlock, I’m on the blocc |
Labeled the loccsta |
Posted on the side of a house just like a poster |
I’m ready to die for seven digits |
And see if you can get it |
Cause tonight, it’s life is shorter than a midget |
(Black C) |
I put the mortiary number up on his pager |
(Mister C) |
Don’t fuck with me! |
(Hitman) |
Well, creepy creepy, here I come |
Now, it’s time to muzzle them niggas with the G-L-O-C-K |
Waiting for that payday |
So now it’s time to get my squad and rush up in his market |
And if you notice an enemy, we spot it as a target |
Grab my (?) |
Hittin it, splittin it |
Sucka ass niggas is prohibited |
Get with this |
Cause if you runnin up mane, you’re just bound to get mistreated |
Battered and beated, lie down like (?) |
Cause suckas be tryina play |
It’s time to huff and puff |
I’mma shoot about, tapin (?) |
Cause one little pinky got away, that means it’s bout 7 days |
It’s time to put the code on his pager |
And let him know it’s major |
(Black C) |
I put the mortiary number up on his pager |
(Mister C) |
Don’t fuck with me! |
(Mister C) |
Well it’s about time I school niggas like? |
Deep fry that? |
like some freshly made? |
You know you can’t fuck with this gang |
I’m like some clothes without no hanger |
Boy, you know you can’t hang so, uhm |
Act like you knew |
You should have been a??? |
And no, you can’t put no salt on this Frisco pimpin??? |
Just give me a fuckin toolbox cause I lost all my screws |
My last name is Church so it’s time for you to pay your sunday dues |
And if you don’t, fool this show ain’t no hope |
My breath don’t stank |
But yes, I got the scope |
Point it at your dome |
Here in '94 |
I’m runnin around, walkin up to niggas just like they was??? |
So you don’t have to get the yellow pages |
Cause I left that mortiary number in your fucking pager |
(Black C) |
I put the mortiary number up on his pager |
(Mister C) |
Don’t fuck with me! |
(Cellski A.K.A. 2Took) |
In my backyard, it’s a gang of bodies that’s buried |
When you walk in my backyard, you walkin on the cemetery |
When I was born, I was born on the 13th |
My best friend was Freddy, yo, we used to live on Elm Street |
Back when I was young |
About ten years old |
Jim Jones was my idol cause he took alot of souls |
Now that I’m older, I got alot of cis |
No fingerprints to be found and not a lick of evidence |
Playin out the murder before I heard another victim |
Pulled the lick before I stick him on the ground |
That’s when I kick em |
Leave em dead or dying with his eyes open wide |
Get some dank and go high to get my mind of the homicide |
Turned on the news to see what they was sayin |
They said The Taker struck again for his twelft straight slayin |
Because the nigga got played like Sega |
So I hooked the mortiary number up on his pager |
(Black C) |
I put the mortiary number up on his pager |
(Mister C) |
Don’t fuck with me! |
Don’t fuck with me! |