Lyrics Gotcha Name on a Bullet - K Rino

Gotcha Name on a Bullet

Ay, Dilemma ain’t here but she here in spirit
I’ma just leave so y’all do whatever y’all wanna do
I’m out, holla
Buck buck, we just pulled the motherfucking microphone
Your name was on a bullet, now it’s in your dome
That’s like mind-blown, so my thoughts turn deep
interrupting my sleep
Oh shit,, they try to make me go crazy
But I can’t get caught slipping because these hoes got to fade me
, a ghetto packing a Tec
If you step, I got to wreck, it’s all a fucking complex
I flex my hand in my Dickies, reaching for my gat
Pull the trigger to your dome, stop you dead in your tracks
Homicide, homicide, paranoid
Death in my eyes, you wonder why I yell
My penmanship contains high tech grammar
Gifted from birth so therefore I will land the
Rhyme like a jet down the runway, here I come
Time to launch and land, burst off and expaaaaansion
It’s fun when done right
Suckers need to learn how to write, don’t bite
Me, I’m talking to the light, not the black, still in fact
It’s the black crews that we crack
No rules, paid dues, like those skills, I’m still at it
Dope holocaust, the musical scientist, rap addict
It really don’t matter when suckers start tripping
I put in the clip of my 9
My mouth be flapping and yapping just like I’m busting caps ‘
I half a brain covered with razor blades
But that ain’t shit, you bet your death when I came back and hit it
Mmmm, you got me me pissed off, why would you call my shit soft?
Snatched the mic so hard I ripped your motherfucking wrist off
I summon thunderstorms from the flow I’m feeling
Property damages, estimated at about twenty million a piece
The beast within release the sun
Rose in the west, but followed me traveling east
Metaphysical, me and my brain indivisible
my body inside my soul so that makes me invisible
, I can take the punches, but hell it don’t hurt as bad as
Section A forever, kicking that crazy shit
Real locs from the street, police couldn’t fade me, bitch
Down with the Ace man and the (*Rah!*) E-y-q-u-e
So if you bumping your gums, I have to do you, G
So look out, when K-rino pull them Black Book out
Wooh, now that’s a fire, fuck it, let’s throw a cookout
So what’s it gonna be, mesquite or hickory?
Put these nuts on sucker’s chin so you know where my dick’ll be
Nowhere to run, I got your name on a bullet
The beam is placed on your forehead so just relax when I pull it
DBX with the dope lyrics, come get a fix
But if you step ‘cause you done stepped in some shit
Uhhhhh, so many ways to execute
Blindfold yourself, Ruff Eyque is about to shoot
You don’t wanna witness this mass murderer
The shit I shoot, the blast will hurt at ya
Eat your earplugs, gargle and hard hat
Time to put in some work, I never parted that
What’s his name?
Mike, Joe or Fred
When you find him, paramedics gonna call him dead
Somebody please come and verify his remains
Whatever he experienced, he was terrified and deranged
Used to be the blood clot, Eyque go all out
Them bullets touch your ass, you go «ooh ooh hot, ooh ooh hot»
Here comes the Brain
Here comes the Brain
Here comes the Brain
Here comes the Brain
Neurotic, psychotic, brain dead, sagely insane, deranged
Step forward strange in the mental
Asylum
Listen close, you hear that soul screaming?
What lies within is unknown but the black holes is leaving
There’ll be no more that remains just a few corpses and carcasses
eternal darkness
Like a spell they been cast last, thrashed with
Mutilated, devastated, terminator’s annihilation’s completed
Into the realm of death, proceed with caution, the danger
You chose to step into my mind, into the torture chamber
This be me, the nigga Lee
Down with the group known as the SPC
Niggas didn’t know I was down with ‘em
Now I’ma clown with ‘em
So let me fuck around with ‘em and bust a fucking sound with ‘em
It’s time for me to pop joints and cop punks
And stop ones that throw my lyrics hard enough to drop punks
Weak shit, hella you’ll save that shit for the pigeons
Some say I can’t flow, well here’s a motherfucking smidgen
When I sit down, I get down with riff sound
Ah this sound is so crunk, that I aim to
So who’s the nigga with the trigger so pull it
So buck ‘em, fuck ‘em, your name’s on a bullet
Psychotic son of a bitch, a motherfucker without a mind
Hey niggas will be dying as long as I got a 9
Zero, ya Kevin King, that be my nigga from the heart
Kevin King, you been my brother, been down from the start
K-Rino, they don’t know who I am
Suspect from Pearl Homes, I never gave a damn
I put it like this, I like to fuck but not to be fucked with
Niggas be getting bucked, bitch, running up with that punk shit
Yo, so if you wanna fuck with me
You’ll be fucking with that SPC
Huh, and you don’t wanna step
I got your name on a bullet and that bullet equals death
I got your name on a bullet, bitch
I ain’t forgot that shit you said, nigga, you’s a snitch
See I chores it and life goes on
So feel good you wasn’t victim to my chrome
But don’t celebrate, my mind state ain’t settled
‘cause after you might meet the devil
So that’s just a taste
In our heart, it ain’t shit for your punk ass life to waste
Blood coming out your pore
Fucking with me, you never know what’s in store
Dealing with me, the X-Man who’s known to check a bitch
1−87, fuck a snitch
Y’all fools, boy, ay, I got nine more to go though, so y’all don’t go nowhere,
y’all sit and listen to this song
Grimm’s got you
Running but you got yourself off in this mess
The shots of an SKS
Get hot with ‘em in your flesh
But what were you thinking at first?
That you finna kick a verse?
I, that’ll make the matter worse ‘cause
What I wanna know is if you the real deal
Looking like you couldn’t when the brown boy got your grill peeled
Coming up with some of that weekend you can’t quit
Shoulda been no blunder, but instead your dead pero
The big nigga, 285, 6'1''
Grudges been made, while lot of grudges been broke by Murder One
, weighs a ton
I’m sipping on, I’m knocking hoes out one by one
Ain’t no love, bitch, trust that, little trust
Therefore I’m for the next nigga bust
A cap on a young brother, making him take a long nap
Laying on his back, miss his family,
Perhaps Murder One the wrong man to look up to
Take care of your business, damn fool, and do what you gotta do
Now your name’s on a bullet
So step up, motherfucker, and watch a big nigga pull it
That motherfucker, Klondike Kat, gives birth to a verse
The fetus is from the elitist, no one will beat us
Some may even attempt to repeat us, but they’re just turkeys
Gobbling in the being of some blood thirsty cheetahs
Speaking of blood thirsty
Kick down your door, bust two in your bitch
And then demand what you’re worth key
MF be setting the roadblocks and obstacles
Can’t see my verbal attack from the blind side ‘cause I’m a
The lighter shake and fitted for graves from the styles I made
One swing of my blade left with a headless fade
John Doe’s engraved on every hollow point in the 4−4
Trigger-gram at your front door with your name on the bullet hole
Slash, crossed the ass of the hollow
‘cause Devil, I ain’t gon' spend your, my name ain’t no Rallo
I’ma follow your punk ass to the death of this murder lead
So nigga please beware Tech-9's coming like a death prayer
So you best be coming to even the score and kill me, bitch
‘cause when I can store a few tricks it’s on some shit to tongue-twist
Get fixed, hole that shit, feel you wanna click, just wait
‘cause you might just fuck around and slip out the hands of Allstate
The Tech-9, bitch, I’m long from a ranger, hoe
Step up, get teched up, I’m a gun-slinging Tonto so
10−4, get buddies, holla at your
Tech-9, that nigga under siege, SPC
lifer, the type of nigga that just don’t give a fuck
So if I gotta buck, I’m gotta buck ya with my 9 mm
And you know I won’t miss
Two shots in your dome, fuck aiming for your
It’s your boy Black, I ain’t no motherfucking punk so
Nigga, where your gun?
I see you heading for your trunk
I’m steady hitting them backstreets to keep my paper stacked
Slanging big crack and hittin' them 2−11 jacks, so
Have you ever heard of a killer
The aggravated fool plus that unknown cap-peeler?
Add the shit up ‘cause I’m ruthless in this game
And I’m up for parole, that’s why this bullet got your name, bitch
son as I take you through the depths of hell
Adventure through the park where real niggas dwell
Take a look into a scope, I see you’re blurry
Take a and then I focus
Many are chosen but only very few survive
You can’t see and do not get
Keep and you’ll witness your own death
Or you become a statistic on one shelf
It’s that third point draft pick, the psycho fanatic
Hearing my voice on another dope track, shit
I’m constantly active, I will not be
Niggas in my hood asking me to lick a shot
So I’ma pull the trigger 'til I see some bodies drop
Another bloody sucker added to the murder scene
Another empty clip from the Glock 19
I’m having thoughts of motherfucking homicidal action
Never leaving the house without my gat ‘cause I be jacking
You said you wanted folks so my niggas came with it
A multitude of shots left his wig all splitted
So now I’m on the run for a motherfucking murder
‘cause leaving the house without my gat is something that’s unheard of
I’m coming from the streets of H-o-u-s-t-o-n
Braking niggas in half as I blast with this MAC-10
Now I’m waking up in the morning thinking about the shit I’ma do today
Will I live to see another day?
I grab my AK
And headed out the door, these bitches cannot trick the
Motherfucking thug with the
Now I’m up the street, doing my thang, selling my ‘caine
I never wanted to because I’m loyal to the game
Kicking the funky shit with my motherfucking niggas
You step on my Vans, you’re making me mad, I turn into a killa
Nothing but a murder murder, nigga, that’s what I said
Chrome into your dome and with the light that’s infrared
See I put you in the ground and
And taking the people back to this earth
It ain’t the way I walk or how I talk that’s bugging me
It ain’t the way that I be looking upon society
It’s just them little surviving, boastings talking in my head
Won’t come in equipped with brick, don’t slip in keeping my family fed
I never be giving a fuck, pumping your ass with this 9
But I make you understand a ass man defended mine
My usually pistol packing watching the blood spill
‘cause I need hot meals, and who gon' pay my bills?
So what’chu gon' do?
It’s my weekly when I been down too long
Insane in the membrane, grab my nuts and my mind is long gone
It’s, that nigga that never gave a fuck with this Glock and uh
I’m the one that’ll fuck you up in your talk so uh
You better be moving
When I’m coming equipped with the pistol grip and the uzi
Never be giving a fuck, if I got my Glock, then I’ma use it
Empty the clip, I’m creeping up, throwing my sign ‘cause I’m a Hoover
Heard you were flipping and dipping them squares, I’m fried about this doobie
I’ll be damned if I don’t get this nigga full with music
Bubble my quake and taking shit, his name is on my bullet
Bah bah bah!
SPC in the house forever, ah aaaa
All praises due to Allah
Peace