Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Killagram, artist - Esham. Album song Dead Flowerz, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 17.09.2008
Record label: Aknu Media
Song language: English
Killagram |
| It’s the Mr. Unholy sinster |
| Man I murdered your minister |
| Murder mo' niggas talkin' jive than Jeff Fenster |
| Witness the prime minister |
| Grand dragon, body baggin' |
| The 44 mag still got my pants saggin' |
| Niggas on the bandwagon |
| Say they suicide driven |
| For the unforgiven |
| These dead flowers ain’t livin' |
| Pyscho, like no |
| Other muthafucka so |
| Go upside your cranium dome |
| With the chrome |
| I’m sick of all these suckas |
| My mind spinning in swirls |
| Impregnate your body with slugs |
| And murdered the world |
| Therapeutic they connected from bullets ejected |
| They concluded wasn’t expected for my ass to shoot it |
| I’m a son of a gun |
| I swallow bullets for fun |
| My daddy with the gun powder |
| Shit, call me hollow tip |
| Little slug hate life |
| Living ain’t love giving |
| Fool, ya paranoid |
| So I’m suicide driven, man |
| I know you hate this suicidalist |
| The animal, rhyme cannibalistic |
| Realistic |
| Bad luck, ain’t no heart in my body |
| So I’m quick to pull the shotty |
| John Gotti and murder ya body |
| Foul, stack a body pile |
| Momma I murdered ya child |
| In the midnight hour |
| Smoking on dead flowerz |
| My Glock stay so hot, it spit fire |
| Infrared beam |
| Make ya scream like Michael Myers |
| Retire, your life just expired |
| I’m repossessin' |
| Got caught with the intent to deliver a drug possession |
| No question |
| I’m playing true confession |
| I’m ill with the steel |
| I showed the chrome to let them know I’m gone |
| Psychotic, Reel Life product |
| We play for keeps |
| Symptoms I’m insane |
| Murder yo ass in yo sleep |
| No therapy so I’m out to murder all of y’all |
| Mental migraine |
| Still gone off Tylenol |
| So now I’m out to destroy |
| Any nigga who wanna annoy me |
| Cuz I’m down with Dead Boy |
| Carbon-copy ass muthafuckin' ass niggas |
| Back the fuck up, bitches! |
| Comin' through this bitch |
| Ye, what up, niggas |
| Got this muthafuckin' steel dick for yo ass |
| Put it in yo muthafuckin mouth, bitch! |
| Bite this |
| I don’t really wanna feel like I feel |
| But the steel be calling my name |
| And it’s a shame |
| Bloody butcher knife |
| Still buried in my backyard |
| Mental flashbacks of how my knuckles got scarred |
| Niggas be smiling in my face and back stabbin' |
| Even though they know |
| I’m bullet bussin' and gun grabbin' |
| Die, die, die U-N-H-O-L-Y |
| Toe tag to body bag |
| Your mama cry |
| Born into this life |
| No escape from playa hates |
| Down to stack papes |
| Going psycho like Norman Bates |
| Ill like Reel Life |
| Yelling, police rebellin' |
| Still talking broke english and drug sellin' |
| O Z choppin, hip-hoppin' |
| Nigga with a death wish |
| Money and the power |
| Pissin' on dead flowerz |