| Eso, what up son? |
| you know how the fuck we do, motherfuckin Demigods
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| Motherfuckin Army of the Pharoahs
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| It’s murder death kill playboy, ainno saftey’s on
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| These microphones, ainno motherfuckin silencers for this shit
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| Cause when we hold 'em…
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| We let this shit go off right in they’re fuckin face (let 'em know)
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| I’m always gettin a suntan on my gun hand cuz I keep the burner out
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| Ready to blaze scorchin lead at your fam
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| So when I give you a pound, it’s really 4
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| Cuz a 45. defies gravity, liftin you off of the floor
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| Pick out your coffin decor maybe some marble and gold
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| And hope they write some nice words when they carvin your stone
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| «here lies a noble man who got brave stuck out his chest bone»
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| Beef with Celph Titled now this grave is what he calls home
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| Get your gaul stone put in a jar in a lab
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| Even the coroner got sick and had to barf in a bag
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| Your boyfriend said you was a marvelous fag
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| And in drag thought you was God like the carpenters dad
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| You said I wasn’t rippin shit properly?
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| The magnitude of my gangsta is a motherfuckin scientific anomoly
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| With a strange collection of weapons I got a good assortment
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| Come close and ima cut you with a mercedes hood ornament
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| Yo, you talkin loud homeboy we never heard of you
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| Put your little record out, nobody never heard of you
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| Went to your city, and they said they never heard of you
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| So we usin motherfuckin bars of death to murder you
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| It’s murder death kill
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| Or it’s kill death murder
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| Celph push they wig back
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| ES push it back further
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| You comin out your face?
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| We handle beef to the bone marrow
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| No matter if it’s demi gods
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| Or army of the pharoahs
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| We beheadin your heroes steady&ready for eddie guerro
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| Theoretically your chance of deadin me zero
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| Give up your petty dinero.
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| We medically and poetically my machete is ready
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| Me men don’t need to coast the homie shows keep the gat close
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| ? |
| shove it down your throat, make you bite the iron man like you jackals
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| Bars of death connected like money fresh off the press
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| An old carcass left in the fetal position no people listen
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| Record spinnin but the needle is skippin
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| I never needed permission in sayin I don’t believe in religion
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| I believe in peepin a lethal evil tradition
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| I believe in merkin enemies with precision feedin the fish? |
| G’s in my vision
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| Your styles infintile seek out a pediatrician
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| It be another emcee missin on the evenin edition
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| Yea, DC, with the sinister track. |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Murder Death Kill, artist - Celph Titled. Album song The Gatalog, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп