Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I'm ILL, artist - Dj ThoroAlbum song Apply Pressure 2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 10.07.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
I'm ILL |
| Brraah, I’m ill, I’m ill, I’m ill |
| Brraah, brraah, I’m ill, I’m ill, I’m ill, I’m ill |
| Brraah, brraah, mothafucka I’m ill, mothafucka I’m ill, mothafucka I’m ill |
| Brraah, brraah, I’m ill, I’m ill, I’m ill, I’m ill |
| Time to let you niggas know |
| Every single bar full of crack, yeah this nigga dope |
| I get you niggas smoked |
| Clap until you down, in the Cadi and I’m laughin' at you clowns like you niggas |
| jokes |
| I’m on top homie hit the flo' |
| Think it’s good till that 'hood nigga disappear like Gorilla Zoe |
| Cali mad at me, niggas say I got a Jigga flow |
| Lil bit of Biggie in me, Henny in me mixed with dro |
| Chubby, yeah I stay in the streets |
| Speed passed, ski mask, yeah I’m blazin' police |
| Thank Mob Duke for raising a G |
| So I can cut a nigga off a D Wade team, wavin' the heat |
| Try beat me, niggas need a code |
| You fuckin' with the wrong nigga like Keyshia Cole |
| I’ll buy the lot, you can’t even lease the Rolls |
| Way below a bomb flow, probably never see the gold |
| Probably wonder why I’m fuckin' with Cass |
| Or why he fuckin' with Jag, got bars, both fuckin' with cash |
| Thats a bro though don’t get it twisted out |
| Quickly I’ll grip the shot, chh-chh, split ya top |
| I took all the shots you ain’t even get the rock |
| Probably never come out, you’re lucky if you get the flock |
| Yeah, point 'em out, I’ma fire hood |
| Labels tryna pay me to stay with mommy and Tiger Woods |
| Homie talkin crap, I’ma snap just like a liger wood |
| Homie say I’m crack from the jump, you can’t deny he good |
| Cats so soft that you can’t show off |
| And that gat go off in your back rolls off |
| That’s my back down mojo |
| Trust if I run out of bullets, we gon' turn this into Pacquiao, Cotto |
| I’m livin' a movie, this is an outtake |
| I’m ill, probably never get cured, I got the outbreak |
| Brraah, I’m ill, I’m ill, I’m ill |
| Brraah, brraah, I’m ill, I’m ill, I’m ill, I’m ill |
| Brraah, brraah, mothafucka I’m ill, mothafucka I’m ill, mothafucka I’m ill |
| Brraah, brraah, I’m ill, I’m ill, I’m ill, I’m ill |
| I know you folks seen dope fiends |
| Folks scream they dope but they more like codeine |
| I know you bluffin' I’m Heron, you Robitussin |
| My punchlines disgusting and my flow mean |
| Ayo my new hoe so mean |
| That when I hit it from the back, I be tryna tap the whole spleen |
| I just like to hear a hoe scream |
| When I’m poppin', I be rockin' that thing like the Bo Dream |
| I’m fresh to death, I’m so clean |
| And you cats like black coffee, never had no cream |
| There’s no team on the face of this earth |
| That could fuck with my family, we hotter than Miami |
| Beach, memorial week with my eye candy |
| We half naked, I talk reckless, they can’t stand me |
| But I get it poppin' like Zanny |
| So they be like «Damn, he cute, he could get inside my panties» |
| I got my dick sucked and fucked, your son mad at me |
| I’m a Cadi truck and you a Camry, hand me |
| Any damn gun and I can shoot that shit |
| I’m a soldier, salute that shit, you a bitch |
| Anytime they play your song, dawg I mute that shit |
| Fuck you and the cat that produced that shit |
| Listen, I could put my hands around a niggas collar |
| Or whip his ass like his dad, make him get his father |
| In Philly, I got it jumpin' like Iguodala |
| I’m in the street, if there’s beef you’ll get devoured |
| 'Cause your ride with a whole click of cowards |
| I could get you smoked and I don’t mean piff or sour |
| I twist piff up and spit for hours |
| You cats washed up, hit the showers |
| Yo, my flow so hot I could melt plastic |
| I’m so sick, I’m a health hazard |