Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Untitled, artist - Killer Mike. Date of issue: 14.05.2012
Song language: English
Untitled |
| You are witnessing elegance in the form of a black elephant |
| Smoking white rhino on terraces |
| Will I die slain like my king by a terrorist? |
| Will my woman be Coretta, take my name and cherish it? |
| Or will she Jackie O, drop the Kennedy, remarry it? |
| My sister say it’s necessary on some Cleopatra shit |
| My grandmama said nope, never, that it’s sacrilege |
| Tend to agree because the thought is so disparaging |
| The Lord give a load, you got to carry it like Mary did |
| That’s why I’m giving honor to all these baby mommas |
| It takes a woman’s womb to make a Christ or Dalai Lama |
| The world might take that child, turn that child into a monster |
| The Lord’ll take a monster and fashion him a saint |
| I present you Malcolm X for those who saying that He can’t |
| Saying that He won’t, when I know He will |
| You usually don’t know it’s you until you getting killed |
| For real |
| Dear Lord, have mercy |
| On your once forgotten life like it’s a game |
| We love |
| I won’t be forced to shut up when I don’t feel the same |
| Cause people gonna lie |
| Some people gonna steal |
| You gotta be careful not to shit where you live |
| Them people might try to have you killed |
| Lord have mercy, life is such a battlefield |
| For real |
| I ain’t never gave a fuck |
| I never did and never will |
| Live my life on press appeal |
| Keep it true, keep it real |
| Better said, I keep it trill |
| And no matter who don’t like it, homie |
| That’s just how it is |
| Naked truth like the stripper that’s in front of me |
| And I keep a blunt and a 5−11 gun on me |
| Why? |
| Cause I’m country-bred |
| Actually, I’m south-er-ern |
| Something like my brethren |
| The legendary Andre 3K, Cee Lo, Goodie, and some other men |
| You should pay some homage, it’s an honor this |
| This is not a fiction that is sold by conglomerates |
| This is Soul of Black Folks mixed with Donald Goines shit |
| Better said rob a bet, esoteric I could get |
| This is John Gotti painting pictures like Dali |
| This is Basquiat with a passion like Pac |
| In a body like Biggie, telling stories like Ricky |
| If a rapper was to spar, please tell him better kick it |
| You with me? |
| I don’t trust the church or the government |
| Democrat, Republican |
| Pope or a bishop or them other men |
| And I believe God has sustained you with rap |
| So I pick a burning bush, put it in a Swisher wrap |
| And they can’t kill a G, I seen how I die |
| I’m only going once, a coward dies a thousand times |
| I’m a spit this ghetto gospel over all these gutter songs |
| I’m gone |