Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tougher Colder Killer, artist - El-P. Date of issue: 30.11.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Tougher Colder Killer |
| To the mother of my enemy, I just killed your son |
| He died with his face to the sky and it cannot be undone |
| He didn’t die hard, in the end he just grinned and bowed |
| Made him dig his own grave at the point of a gun |
| While he laughed to the gods out loud |
| And it made me want to jump… out a window |
| And it made me want to scream |
| Tear my face off run through the streets |
| Pandemonium me, fucked by decree |
| Came a long way from young and alive when I was not blind… |
| Now I can not see |
| Grace in reverse at best it gets worse and I wanted you to know: |
| Since then I don’t sleep |
| And the uniform, tags, side arm and ID that I wore |
| When I did it got send C.O.D |
| To the HQ, note reading «this is not me |
| And I hate you for making me make a man bleed» |
| And before the man passed and his last gasp fleed |
| (and this is why I’m writing you now) his eyes gleamed |
| And he pointed to the part of his chest that still beats |
| Looked dead in my grill and then said this to me: |
| There is a tougher colder killer |
| A tougher colder killer than |
| A tougher colder killer than you |
| And he will wipe us all from this place |
| You will learn to crawl |
| You will learn it all in just one day |
| Just one day |
| I’ll slap a motherfucker so hard his mama probably said baby you okay |
| I just got an extreme pain on the side of my face, you understand me? |
| Your dad should be ashamed of raising you suckers man, real shit man |
| Your dad should’ve left home like millions of other dads did |
| By staying at home, man, he only made you a tougher, colder pussy |
| I’m the fucking Catalina wine mixer blitzer |
| Wolf in a shearling wording shit twisted |
| It’s a lovely day to go Blitzkrieg, isn’t it? |
| Listen if suicide pacts are your bag try dissin him |
| The blocked number, no star 69 |
| Call, breathe heavy at your little sis, rock system |
| Come with the loud talk, limp back whispering |
| That motherfucker’s no victim |
| The return of the other |
| Insane psycho, sick, savage |
| Raw rap rhyme motherfucker |
| With the big black belly |
| If it get to shakin' like jelly |
| And the gun don’t jam |
| You’re a dead motherfucker! |
| Niggas stay sweet like Smuckers |
| Peanut butter-packing motherfuckers |
| I’m ashamed for your mothers |
| Pause, comma, how I know your momma? |
| Bad motherfucker, double entendre |
| Mother fuckers don’t know shit |
| Not the half or the math or the sum or the quotient |
| Get your cameras in focus to capture the moment |
| I slap you for poking your nose in |
| Globe gripped so tight that it’s choking |
| He got the whole world in his hands, hold this! |
| Pose in a winning stance, don’t get close |
| Watch me with the telescope you watched the throne with |
| Trapped in another bad circuit, twirk it |
| Splash in another man’s snatch, get murdered |
| Paths get burnt and cut right through sermons |
| I laugh at the priest getting deep in the service |
| Last guy to the big guy in the sky |
| Is a rotten egg or potato au gratin |
| Head get him down, take a piss in his coffin |
| Better off dead than to let him keep talking |
| You better off walking than talking |
| Bullets get to sparking, leave you in chalk or a coffin |
| Lord have mercy on the family and they losses |
| I paid for the roses to cover the coffin |
| I move like Bulger, the boss up in Boston |
| Caught him in a bottle house buying Mr. Boston |
| Hit him with a bullet from a .38 snub |
| Put the plug in his skull, hit the switch lights, offed him |
| What’s that on your shirt? |
| Made you look |
| Get jacked for your work, get juxed for the gold |
| 'Oldest trick in the book like grandma’s hand on her cunt Playboy centerfold |
| Hold his dick like a schnook on the block while he look at the cops and they |
| drive past slow |
| Keep the heater on ice, let it go, he was told that revenge was best served cold |
| There is a tougher colder killer |
| A tougher colder killer than |
| A tougher colder killer than you |
| And he will wipe us all from this place |
| You will learn to crawl |
| You will learn it all in just one day |
| Just one day |
| You ain’t with this shit we with |
| Bars of death, destruction, and violence |
| What do I hear from you? |
| Nothin'. |
| Silence |
| You ain’t ready for this shit. |
| You don’t want this shit |
| It’s a prizefight. |
| It’s a prizefight |
| And one opponent ain’t showin' up |
| Sucka |