Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Microphone Killa, artist - Freeway. Date of issue: 14.02.2010
Song language: English
Microphone Killa |
| Woo! |
| Free! |
| Yeah, we in here |
| Uh huh, let’s get 'em |
| Who am I? |
| Microphone killa, microphone killa, microphone killa |
| Swifter than a breeze, I will Swiss cheese emcees |
| Even though I got a short temper, had a long day |
| I will kill a tall nigga with a long K |
| Matter of fact I’m exactly what the song say |
| Mic killa, best flow-er, «that's what they all say» |
| Let me prove it to you, deliver the music to you |
| Raw and uncut bake, I’m not puttin any on it |
| Back, I put the city on it |
| East coast, head on my shoulders, put my fifty on it |
| All day, take it off just to rest |
| I’m not a sleeper, if a nigga try to creep me put the heater to his chest |
| Yes, bullets penetrate fresh |
| Tag him with the chrome, get blown like reefer |
| He tried to take flight, hit him right with the beam |
| Since I was a pre-teen been a microphone fiend |
| Had dreams to rock, then I signed with The Roc |
| It’s still Roc for life, Rhymesayers is the team, yeah |
| Find 'em all, line 'em up, pick 'em up |
| You say they got the sickest mouth, no doubt, grind 'em up, kick 'em out |
| That’s one thing that they hate about me |
| I body emcees, send 'em back to they paper route |
| They say they can do without, stay without |
| Never in doubt, if I’m without, I gotta bring the lasers out |
| That’s one thing that I hate about y’all |
| Whenever I floss, I always bring the haters out |
| Used to sling hard, bring the neighbors out |
| Now I throw yard parties, bring the neighbors out |
| Turntables out, one mic, one DJ, a couple guns |
| That’s how we get it done, Jake One, Freeway |
| Do this with no delay, no doubt |
| They bang my records in the house and on the E-way |
| How you think I got the name Freeway? |
| I move out |
| Listen, 20−20 vision couldn’t see me, yeah |
| Microphone (Killa), no Cam’ron |
| Bomb like landmine, I don’t ask shit, I demand mine |
| I take a little bit and expand mine |
| Grandson killin 'em grandma |
| Chest out, head high, until I’m a dead guy |
| I’m a shed light on all the lives I’m lead by |
| Examples of successful legends and historical presence |
| As I started reppin on Roc-A-Fella Records |
| A blessing in disguise, y’all fools ain’t messin with these guys |
| Don’t insult me, you messin with my pride |
| It’ll cost you, dirty money niggaz’ll off you |
| Pullin heat, throwin bullets deep, Randy Moss you |
| It ain’t hard to, six feet deep is where they toss you |
| Detectives tell mommy that they lost you |
| Tell 'em Free, no women and kids |
| But we killin niggaz just like we kill these motherfuckin bars too |