| I’m a beast with these flows
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| Two birds one stone, you get geese when trees roll
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| They say I’m evil 'cause I trained my eagle to see gold
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| See, no seagulls couldn’t see these goals
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| Please, it’s the return of the beast coast
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| No cash, flash put the cheese still make teeth show
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| The cold needle, is how you move on a strip, you tryna be Vito?,
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| well there’s rules to this shit
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| Don’t get clapped, y’all ain’t real spitters, y’all lips chapped
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| Better watch the Mr. Nicewatch, don’t risk/wrist that
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| I got a 6 pack of bear/bare skill that I spill like that
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| And everybody know (THAT SHIT CRAY!)
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| Ya’ll niggas soft-spoken, down below token
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| The type to drop the soap when you soakin' in front of most men
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| It makes sense you want beef with this frozen
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| It nuts for new school, in the tool, ya' kid hold him
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| Better shoot yourself Plaxico, because I’m next to go
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| The Progressive flows from New York to New Mexico
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| A lyrical Spanish, with a dance that’s demandin'
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| Step into my box and that’s exactly what’chu standin'
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| Ain’t no half steppin' 'round me
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| And you gotta drown a fish before you clown me
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| That young cop killer, I’m dat ill, so doc' will ya
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| Give me two shots for 2Pac killer
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| Soul searchin' 'till my flows are perfect
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| I ain’t tryna be a slave from overworkin'
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| Sorry BADA$$, you lucky that I peeped the second
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| Tell them niggas keep it steppin' with they beat selection
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| Check the melody, it’s so heavenly
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| That shit’ll get your hips to move no 70's
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| All the Opium, can I bust soliloquies
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| Got that shit mix and mastered both remedies
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| Grab a spoonful, stirrin' up a pot
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| And you know we gotta serve it while it’s hot
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| I’m flowin' like a volcano, drippin' verses while drippin' verses off the top
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| Dirty cops still swervin' on the block
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| Lookin' for black kids, that spittin' up acid
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| It’s in my jeans/genes, don’t worry where my pants is
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| Get with the script it’s that ignorant shit
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| And they bound to get sick off of this quick
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| But I sealin' my lips, it’s a shift
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| I know you feel it man
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| We blowin' up like a ceiling fan
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| Droppin' off jewels like Killa Cam’s man
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| When it comes to kickin' verses I’m Mr. Van Damme
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| Crushin' strawberries it’s a jam
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| So throw both hands if you can
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| Ironic how I’m killin' this shit
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| Until they bury me, my volume is going in depth with longevity |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Killuminati , by - Joey Bada$$. Song from the album 1999, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп