Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Homicide Remix, artist - Khris K
Date of issue: 19.10.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Homicide Remix |
Fuck rap |
Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic |
Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back |
Hold up, catch a vibe, ain’t no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive |
Leave a suicide note, fuck that |
Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this |
I’m comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby |
I’m feelin' like I’m, chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady with rabies |
I’m foamin' at the mouth, ain’t nobody takin' me out |
Every single rapper in the industry, yeah, they know what I’m about |
And I dare you to test me |
'Cause not a single one of you motherfuckers impress me |
And maybe that’s a little bit of an exaggeration |
But I’m full of innovation |
And I’m tired of all of this high school «He's cool, he’s not» rap shit |
Can a single one of you motherfuckers even rap? |
shit |
No, this ain’t a diss to the game, this a gas to the flame |
Nowadays, everybody sound the same, shit’s lame |
Like a moth to the flame, I’ma reel 'em in and kill 'em |
Know you feelin' lyricism when I’m spillin' it, I’m feelin' myself |
Yeah, yeah, Bobby Boy, he be feelin' himself |
Mass murder like this can’t be good for my health |
When I rap like this, do I sound like shit? |
Well, it don’t really matter, 'cause I’m killin' this shit |
Yeah, I’m killin' this shit |
Oh yeah, oh yeah, I’m killin' this shit |
Bobby, how many times you been killin' this shit? |
Find another rhyme, goddamn, nigga, shit |
Fuck rap |
Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic |
Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back |
Hold up, catch a vibe, ain’t no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive |
Leave a suicide note, fuck that |
Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this |
I’m comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby |
I’m feelin' like I’m, chika-chika-chika-chika |
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady |
All of y’all wishy and washy |
All y’all my kids in a car seat |
I take my dime to hibachi, we do 69 like Tekashi |
Lyin' in the sand, too much time in your hands, I think I need to find you a |
hobby |
God got a plan, hope that God hold your hand, I think I’m 'bout to catch me a |
body! |
Tell all my teachers that I said I’m back on my G shit and I’m coming back to |
get even |
I went on tour and got paid, now I’m back in the region, I let off this mac for |
no reason |
You are now witnessing greatness, I’m practically preaching and this is the |
passion of Jesus |
And all you basic motherfuckas are lacking achievement, and I’ve just been |
laughing and geekin' |
Back to business, I got mad intentions, I ain’t perfect, I made some bad |
decisions |
But it’s competition, I’m a savage winning |
You can have the digits, I’m a mathematician |
I don’t see you niggas, I’ve been lacking vision |
You’ve been acting different, I’ve been acting distant |
I’ma do some shit to bring me mad attention |
You gon' do some shit that send me back to prison, whoa! |
This is uncomfortable, you just keep putting your feet in a fire |
I think my gun got a crush on you, boy, you 'bout to meet your secret admirer |
How you do shit you don’t wanna do? |
I do that shit just to keep me inspired |
I used to hit it and leave when I wanted to, now I hit it and be sleepin' |
inside her, woo |
Roll up on 'em when I pull up on 'em, put that motherfucking smoke up on 'em |
with that holy water |
Joyner Lucas, I’m a holy mona leader motor runnin' |
Man, too many niggas know about it, but I thought about it |
Prayed about it to the Lord about it in the morning, but I gotta show 'em what |
it’s all about and I’ma call 'em out |
I ain’t that nigga you could talk about, you better calm it down |
Don’t be tryna give me the run around, I’ll shut 'em down god damn |
Fuck rap |
Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic |
Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back |
Hold up, catch a vibe, ain’t no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive |
Leave a suicide note, fuck that |
Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this |
I’m comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby |
I’m feelin' like I’m, chika-chika-chika-chika |
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady |
There’s nowhere to hide, we call this shit genocide |
Hit 'em with that (Do-do-do) and they die |
We gon' leave 'em crucified, we call this shit genocide |
I got bitches, I got hoes, I got rare designer clothes |
No, we ain’t fuckin' with that |
Yeah, there’s a time and a place |
But if you ain’t comin' with the illest of raps |
Callin' yourself the greatest alive |
Then you don’t deserve to do that |
No, no, oh no, no, please do not do that |
You gon' get smacked |
You gon' make Bobby attack |
You gon' make Bobby Boy snap |
You gon' make Bobby Boy snap (Bobby Boy!) |
Fuck rap |
Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic |
Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back |
Hold up, catch a vibe, ain’t no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive |
Leave a suicide note, fuck that |
Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this |
I’m comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby |
I’m feelin' like I’m, chika-chika-chika-chika |
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady |
Yeah, what it look like? |
Little too much sauce, get it cooked right |
I’m the same mothafucka, been the same mothafucka |
With the mothafuckin' fame like Suge Knight, shit |
Gotta make time |
And it really ain’t shit if it ain’t mine |
I’m a beast, I’m a dog, I’m a canine |
See the way I make her go down like a bassline (yeah) |
Back when I was just a youngin', didn’t have any nothin' |
Always up to somethin', started gettin' money |
Now I’m off and runnin', way too wild to function, call it comin' up |
And yeah I’m on the escalator, they be starin' at me |
They the spectators and I’m player magic |
I’m a ex-Laker, I’m a messmaker |
I don’t stress paper, I don’t care who has it |
Fuck rap |
Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic |
Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back |
Hold up, catch a vibe, ain’t no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive |
Leave a suicide note, fuck that |
Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this |
I’m comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby |
I’m feelin' like I’m, chika-chika-chika-chika |
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady |
Nigga do that shit, nigga done that shit |
Nigga any problem bet I overcome that shit |
Twenty gold bottles I’m a drink on that shit |
Twenty songs that I’m on number one that shit |
My name gon' ring and my team gon' win |
I shot a nigga once and I’d do that shit again |
Put your hands on a Bible stealing candy at a store |
To a black homicidal it’s the same damn sin |
Drop down, give me three points ho |
K. Dot, give it to it how you want ho |
I’m a show you what this West side about |
I’m a pull up in a 'Rari at your grandmama’s house, hey now |
She got a nigga name in her mouth, hey now |
T-O to M-O to ammo, I mean |
My MO is zero, see commas, I promise |
Now go tell your mama this dick ain’t for free |
This dick ain’t, this dick ain’t |
This dick ain’t, this dick ain’t |
This dick ain’t for free |
Touch that, I need cash back, transaction |
I bust back in a all black Grand National |
Hoodrats in the project if you ask 'em |
They wanna buy the world, 10 racks on they taxes |
Holiday cheers, tell 'em get checks with a bottle to the neck |
Nigga get it how you live |
Fuck rap |
Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic |
Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back |
Hold up, catch a vibe, ain’t no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive |
Leave a suicide note, fuck that |
Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this |
I’m comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby |
I’m feelin' like I’m, chika-chika-chika-chika |
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady |
Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like JAY-Z |
Jig is up, you fuckers who didn’t write anything |
Are getting washed, liga-liga-liga, like bathing |
Young Hova, I know hitters like Yankees |
Gun toters that pull triggers like crazy |
Unloadin', leave you shot up in your Rover |
Your body goes limp and slumps over |
Like A-Rod in a month lull, but he just homered |
Hol' up, I said «Rover» because now your Rover is red |
Like Red Rover, so you know what I meant |
But I roll over my opponents instead |
Makin' dog sounds 'cause I gotta keep breakin' these bars down |
I’ll go slow for the speds |
But when I go (Roof!) like the Dobermann said |
I still think the (Roof!) would go over your head (Ha-ha) |
Beast mode, motherfuckers 'bout to get hit |
With so many foul lines, you’ll think I’m a free throw |
Figured it was about time for people to eat crow |
You about to get out-rhymed, how could I be dethroned? |
I stay on my toes like the repo, a behemoth in sheep’s clothes |
From the East Coast to the West, I’m the ethos and I’m the G.O.A.T |
Who the best, I don’t gotta say a fuckin' thing, though |
'Cause MCs know |
But you don’t wanna hear me spit the facts |
Your shit is ass like a tailbone |
Or you’re trapped in your cell phone |
Or my chicken scratch, or my self-loathe |
I don’t wanna fuckin' listen to you spit your raps someone else wrote |
Used to get beat up by the big kids |
Used to let the big kids steal my big wheel |
And I wouldn’t do shit but just sit still |
Now money’s not a big deal |
I’m rich, I wipe my ass with six mill' |
Big bills like a platypus |
A caterpillar’s comin' to get the cannabis |
I’m lookin' for the smoke but you motherfuckers are scatterin' |
Batterin' everything and I’ve had it with the inadequate |
Man, I can see my dick is standin' stiff as a mannequin |
And I’m bringin' the bandana back, and the fuckin' headband again |
A handkerchief and I’m thinkin' of bringin' the fuckin' fingerless gloves back |
And not giving a singular fuck, like fuck rap |
I sound like a fuckin' millionaire |
With a Derringer with a hair trigger |
'Bout to bear hug a fuckin' terrier, the Ric Flair dripper |
Y’all couldn’t hold a candle at a prayer vigil |
When I vent, they compare me to a fuckin' air duct |
I’m 'bout to bare-knuckle it, nah, fuck it |
I’m gonna go upside their head with a Nantucket |
Abraca-fuckin'-dabra |
The track is the blood, I’m attracted, I’m attackin' it |
What? |
Dracula, fuck that shit |
I’m up, back with a thud |
Man, stop |