| Late last nite, I was in the bed, eyes red
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| Thinkin’about project pat, and what the fuckin jury said
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| Givin’him what they gave him, then they put him in handcuffs
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| Motherfuck dem laws, I’ma make you put yo hands up Don’t cross the line, yellow take the police brand up Outside the court, Norf Memphis and we klanned up I can be a leader, bring the heata, like a farakhan
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| I can be a terroist to the government like a taliban
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| Long as ya black, and ya wrist they put they targets on Watchin’niggas every move, tappin’niggas cell phones
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| Don’t, Fall, for the okay, Don’t, Call, and I’ll bring the dope
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| And we gon’smoke we till the break of dawn
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| Trapped in this hood where there ain’t no motherfuckin bon
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| And to that officer I know your stompin’ground here
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| But If you ain’t from my hood, get yo ass from round here
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| First I’m gonna catch the bitch
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| Then I’m gonna beat the bitch
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| Then I’m gonna bury bitch
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| Shouldn’t of been talkin’shit
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| You knew who you was fuckin wit
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| Fuckin wit the fuckin best
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| She who you fuckin been
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| Now I’m aimin’at yo chest
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| This goes out to all of y’all
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| All of y’all be talkin’shit
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| Slip the clip up in the gun
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| Then commence to bust a nig
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| Bust a nig, at ya dawg
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| Watchin’you niggas fall
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| Screamin’out like a bitch
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| Mane that’s just some petty shit
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| I’m into blood baths, I don’t, fine I’ll punch ya
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| I’ma hit yo ass wit the fuckin rocket launcher
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| Can you stand the pain, insane, bounty hunta
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| Stop long, see ya pulp, till ya unconscious
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| Throw you in the dumpsta, lord catch a conquer
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| Lord don’t, pistol play jump up, if ya want ta This is the unda, buried by yo momma
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| Not only do I murder mane I also am bomb ya Picture this, you a juror and you on the stand
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| And you about the judge the life of a black man
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| Young brotha from the hood made it rappin’and
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| Wit a knot in his pocket weighin least a grand
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| Here’s the story he got caught wit some fire arms
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| By a crooked ass cop wit his siren awn
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| He was known as a felon made it bigga than state
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| The whole case turned fed made him lose his faith
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| Picture this, now the judge he got hatred for crooks
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| Because ten years ago he was appointed by bush
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| Republican white man, and he don’t give a fuck
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| If the guns wasn’t his that was found in his truck
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| Prosecutors, shady lawyers, mane who can you trust
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| All this palm greasy shit, mane it’s bigga than us Make you wanna be like fuck it hit the trunk of the car
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| Deliberation it was time for the jury to star
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| Killa Klan (fade out)
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| RIP jesse deane ~2002~ |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Killa Klan, artist - Juicy J. Album song Chronicles of the Juice Man, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп