Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Shoot To Kill, artist - K Rino. Album song No Mercy, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 31.12.1999
Record label: Black Book International
Song language: English
Shoot To Kill |
| Yo, Seven, you down to rip ‘em? |
| Hell yeah |
| Then show your skill |
| How you want this shit to go? |
| Man, it don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| Handle the mic like you be handling the steel |
| How you want this shit to go? |
| Man, it don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| Spot rocking with stigmata, I guess it’s the gift |
| Heal the crippled when I rip the freestyle on a metro lip |
| Quick to go to war ‘cause I don’t your mama and them |
| Take your wife and your daughter and beat your ass with a bicycle rim |
| And when you know it, you went out like a hoe |
| Talking like, «» Nigga, you got D-Boed, you got Ramboed |
| And your cousins wouldn’t even help ‘cause I was in fucking up-mode |
| Tsk tsk, I see dead people |
| Like emcee died when he bit my rhyme and didn’t know the flow was lethal |
| They tried to kill me by giving me cancer (You can’t get rid of that) |
| Shit, if DB came on and then rocked a verse, then cancer gave me back |
| Vision my wisdom but you scared to look |
| I’m hieroglyphics in the sonic bible, the Quran and K-Rino's Book |
| You can be deaf and dumb and it wouldn’t change shit |
| Plug up my ears, rip out my tongue and your ass in sign language, bitch |
| Felony, you down to rip ‘em? |
| Fa sho |
| Then show your skill |
| How you want this shit to go? |
| Yo, it don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| Handle the mic like you be handling the steel |
| Man, how you want this here to go? |
| Yo, it don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| Say foo', you down to rip ‘em? |
| Fa sho |
| Then show your skill |
| Which weapon should I use? |
| Yo it don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| Handle the mic like you be handling the steel |
| Man, how you want this shit to go? |
| Yo, it don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| When I lock and load, I make blocks explode |
| Lyrical C4, the plastics, fuck the Glocks you hold |
| I was told once before never kick a man when he’s down |
| I hate to tell you, what better time to serve a hater with rounds |
| Lace him with pounds of ammo, shake that snake out the ground |
| Have him regretting, crossing state lines, sliding his ass in H-Town |
| Can’t hit the breaks now, I see you don’t like the way the 40 cal sound |
| Scared to death, got your face down, feeling like out of place now |
| My nigga listen, my rhymes are like illegal prescriptions |
| So codeine and Sprite mix it cold, pharmaceutical |
| Skill-dropping is like pill-popping, numbs your brain into submission |
| Only to awake to a headache, just in time to hear the slugs whistling |
| The Rhyme Felon, bid you farewell, only time can tell |
| I inhale and breathe life, refreshing off minds that’s stale |
| No stopping these top pedigree from the dirty streets out the cell |
| I shoot to kill from a Coupe de Ville, translating your heaven into hell |
| K-Rino, you down to wreck ‘em? |
| Hell yeah |
| Then show your skill |
| How you want this shit to go? |
| Man, it don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| Straight up? |
| Handle the mic like you be gripping the steel |
| How you want this shit to go? |
| Man, it don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| K-Rino, you down to rip ‘em? |
| Sho is |
| Then show your skill |
| How you want this shit to go? |
| It don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| I will |
| Handle the mic like you be gripping the steel |
| How you want this shit to go? |
| It don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| Yo, straight out the gutter, stomach cutter, at will I slice |
| Decapitate a crew and made their heads roll like dice |
| Lyrics inserted, cops alerted, I’ll blast at foes |
| Don’t want the preacher throwing up, leave the casket closed |
| Punish my victims then inflcit them with pain and stress |
| Another radical recital ignites your chest |
| Beating a sucker motherfucker for calling me fake |
| How many blows to the nose can one man take? |
| I got to pop ya just to stop ya from dissing my clique |
| Breaking your ass with a blast or blow so quick |
| Making you frown with a round, you duck and wish |
| Man I’m so down I could drown a fucking fish |
| Unleash the vocals, every local can feel the sting |
| Took off my vest, shot up my chest, didn’t feel a thing |
| You see me stepping with the rep and the mic I thrash |
| Since you don’t like me get this Nike up out your ass |
| Eyque, you down to rip ‘em? |
| Hell yeah |
| Then show your skill |
| How you want this shit to go? |
| Yo, it don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| Straight up, handle the mic like you be handling the steel |
| How you want this shit to go? |
| Yo it don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| Eyque, you down to rip ‘em? |
| Hell yeah |
| Then show your skill |
| How you want this shit to go? |
| Yo, it don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| Straight up, handle the mic like you be handling that steel |
| How you want this shit to go? |
| Yo it don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| Gimme the microphone and duck when I bust |
| Remember one thing, don’t fuck with us |
| ‘cause uh, you’re fucking with the wrong clique |
| Unless you’re into stroking and licking on armed dicks |
| SPC still spitting it happily |
| Eat hoe ass louse, yeah they still after me |
| But they can’t catch, not today |
| And then five ass niggas want me locked away |
| I’ma bring it to the light and it sparks in the dark |
| When this catch your, it’s gon' rip it apart |
| Now uh, who gots the feeling for a thrilling killing? |
| I promise it to be chilling when this nigga stop living |
| I’m giving slugs to mugs then he stripped in |
| Payback’s a motherfucker when you dripped in blood |
| The last time I came, rushed the loot and still |
| But this time to gain, it’s to shoot and kill |
| You down to wreck ‘em? |
| What you think? |
| Then show your skill |
| Trust that I murder first |
| It don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| Aight |
| Handle the mic like you handle the steel |
| Well can I use your new bazooka? |
| It don’t matter, shoot to kill |
| You ain’t said nothing |
| Whenever I’m busting, I shoot to kill |
| I use to chill but now I got to execute the deal |
| The juice is real, a hundred percent freshly squeezed |
| SPC’s best emcees, it’s best you leave |
| Because we fucking up the game for you niggas that’s rapping fame |
| Tryna make a name, DBX is taking aim |
| No warning shots ‘cause I ain’t tryna wound ‘em or injure ‘em |
| Helpless is how I render ‘em |
| Dead is how I remember ‘em |
| I’ll ya, in '99, I use a Ruger |
| So dammit, Eyque, how the fuck you load this bazooka? |
| Blow up the whole spot at a four block radius |
| Don’t play with us, RIP on you faggots that hated us |
| Dragon clan coming like the cavalry |
| You fucking with my homeboys is one thing that I ain’t having, g |
| The killer like killer |
| Shooting venom with these lyrics, throw the mic in the river |