Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hell to Pay, artist - GAWNE. Album song Freedom, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 21.05.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Jeff Blue
Song language: English
Hell to Pay |
I swore to the G.O.D… |
I was finna get mine… |
Cause mama you done made it out Chicago’s Westside! |
HO HO mama let’s ride… |
We roll |
Bonnie and Clyde |
I ain’t goin' out quiet… |
Got time on my left wrist |
God to my right |
But I’m outta my right mind |
So be quiet… |
And don’t ask what I’m rapping for |
This shit is personal… |
My mama gon' live in the Hollywood Hills fore she gets to the nursing home… |
Cause name five MC’s in the game right now who can take me down… |
I’ll wait… |
Crooked! |
We might just have to give em' the rhythm that they came for now- |
When I hit em' with the potent- |
Profane flow- |
Till the propane flame goes out… |
Until then |
I’m the Rap Godzilla |
Miraculous |
I’m coming to take the president down |
Cause I came for the most hateful |
Cave troll |
In White House |
Who went AWOL |
On his wife, what an a-hole |
Woman say no |
But he won’t stop grabbing the pussy by the handful |
Cause the man knows |
That he can’t lose |
With a few scandals |
When Vladimir Putin is handing him |
Wikileaks used to advantage |
Disparaging Hillary |
Putting that nail through her casket in… |
And it’s so frickin' apparent |
This country is reaching a point of combustion |
Where faith in humanity’s practically vanishing… |
Conservative values have died |
They’re inanimate |
And liberals are panicking… |
Turning to pussies |
They’re packing their bags up and moving to Canada… |
Canada??? |
You mother fuckers ain’t really man enough |
I don’t give a fuck |
I’m never running from nothing |
Even if Donald’s got the nukes |
And he’s coming for everybody in the opposition |
I’ma be there opening up a can of the whoopy- |
I’m whooping the man |
Cause I’m not a man, I’m a legend |
And I reckon my records |
Are breaking every single record |
Known to man in a second |
The world ain’t ready for the return of the mic |
Murdering menace |
I hurt em', and burn em' |
Invented |
The word of demented |
So call em' a medic |
With anesthetic |
Before they turn into someone you never heard of |
Pathetic |
At first I was heading for heaven |
But the devil said I’d be better never repenting |
For my pen again |
When the venom is venerable |
I’m too fucking incredible |
Un-bitable flow |
It isn’t edible |
Nor legible |
My decibels and trebles |
Are impeccable |
When flipping a rap |
I’m kicking it back |
To the momentum |
I first had when I was entering my ZONEEE |
WHOA… |
Look at the show! |
Luke Gawne |
Crooked I |
And Craig O… |
You probably thought |
I wasn’t gon' slaughter ever syllable |
But I’m ripping em' to bits |
With the wickedest spit |
And bitch |
I’m limitless |
YOOO! |
Walking round with thoughts of redemption |
Plotting through my head, voices said speak of division |
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there’ll be hell to pay |
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there’ll be hell to pay |
Picture perfect fantasy is it? |
Rotting till we’re dead, voices spread, nobody listen! |
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there’ll be hell to pay |
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there’ll be hell to pay |
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there’ll be hell to pay |
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there’ll be hell to pay |
Everybody worried bout they guns and the second amendment, end it- |
My nigga I’ma tell you in advance |
You want America to ban every weapon invented |
Just put a gun in a real nigga hands |
'Cause me holdin' steel wasn’t built in the plans |
Elephant in the room, I’ma poacher (Shot!) |
Deliver the wound, I’ma smoke ya |
Veteran in a mood, I’ma choke ya |
Even if you’re ill with your hands |
You still getting killed it don’t matter |
When the shooter go bananas in Nevada shooting outta the window of the Mandalay |
Bay like he had a McCain |
He sprayin' the crowd shatter |
And the data |
Don’t add up, more than 58 dead… |
Conspiracy theorists sayin' they really ain’t dead |
But tell that to the motherfucker laying on the ground |
With his brain matter splattered, head shattered on a platter |
From the automatic ratata-tata- |
That’ll make you change everything in your mind frame when the time came |
Dylann Roof, let his nine aim |
Walked into the church, turned that sh*t into a fire range |
Squeezin' on the D’Eagle til' his mind hangs sideways |
Nine slain, cries, pain, eyes drain, lies blame- |
How do I explain hatred to an underage kid |
Who’s parents got their lives claimed- |
By a killer- |
That the coppers bought a whopper for, at the Burger King |
After the murder scene- |
They don’t give a fuck if we all die! |
Doin' a copper like an Eazy-E walk-by |
Slaughterhouse, local pig gettin' hogtied |
Fall guy, cause all I’m seein' is you devils being greedy for dinero |
But you fuckin' with a pharaoh, I’m the builder of the pyramid, monument |
My eye’s on top of it |
I’m all eyes seein', like Horus |
All I ever needed was a chorus |
The shit’ll get 'em hooked from Philly to Middlebrook |
These killers shook, you’re lookin' at Crooked you’re lookin' at a book |
Crook is a thesaurus, «godlike being» |
This industry is full of shady-ism, they be into favoritism, take a listen |
Lyric disciple, I wrote the lyrical bible |
Whoever said they did it, I’ma call it plagiarism, they was into Atheism |
Paganism, Satanism — wait a minute |
Pay the menace, great attention, haters dissin', they be trippin' |
They be listin', crazy spittin', daily rhythms, eighty spitta’s- |
Ate em' like a plate of chicken |
Flavor sticker for the blatant haterism- |
Say the mission, ain’t a mission if the lyricism- |
Isn’t a main event when I’m paintin' pictures… |
You fuckin' with a verbal gun clapper, I hunt rappers |
My gun smoke blunt rappers |
Quicker than your blaze a swisha! |
Walking round with thoughts of redemption |
Plotting through my head, voices said speak of division |
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there’ll be hell to pay |
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there’ll be hell to pay |
Picture perfect fantasy is it? |
Rotting till we’re dead, voices spread, nobody listen! |
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there’ll be hell to pay |
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there’ll be hell to pay |
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there’ll be hell to pay |
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there’ll be hell to pay |