Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Killaz On The Payroll, artist - Luniz. Album song Lunitik Muzik, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 10.11.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Numworld Entertainment
Song language: English
Killaz On The Payroll |
Welcome. |
Little boys and girls. |
You thought niggaz was gonna come weak? |
Nigga |
this the Mobb fool. |
Uh. |
I got some Killaz On The Payroll |
an they know |
when it’s time to handle business nigga lay low. |
Verse 1 *(Phats Bossalini)* |
I fight to struggle |
hopin god don’t stop my hustle |
my fam fight back like wild dogs wit out a muzzle |
the shots was multiple |
I remember blood puddles |
landed in sand wit niggaz fallin in doubles |
baby couples |
I mean the strong kill the weak |
million dolla puzzles |
I done placed the last piece |
success is sweet |
I put it all back together |
mass melted chambers |
strictly guarded by Barretas |
uh cash means |
fo the jewels they get they ass beat |
sweat in my sleep |
think they found a way to blast me grossly |
mutha fuckaz tried to choke me sliced they throat |
look in my eyes now slowly |
your oldie |
that’s for takin it P now what’s left to play soley |
that’s for fuckin wit me listen |
in the streets it’s a respect thang |
can’t tell the tune |
left ya non-Taxin |
mostly caine brought up got sold on my block |
most the nights I slept |
got awoke by shots |
the inner city |
I could care less about your pitty |
I’m Phats Bossin ready to die come and get me. |
Verse 2 *(Poppa L.Q.)* |
Well you can label me an outlaw when Madd Maxx turn to set it off |
grab the 9 millimeter by the pistol grip an let it off |
like Dustin Hoff |
killin MC’s off wit a vengance |
blow the microphone up an leave it smokin when I’m finished |
per pound spinach |
my niggaz been in it an done, done it so when you come to smoke wit our records |
nigga you know who run it I gets blunted 168 hours a week |
P tried to creep an got burnt from head to feet |
but never sleep on the vocabulary skillz |
of a nigga that’s out to make mills |
uh my nigga Phats Bossalini tells all the block cats |
got a hundred hidden in the stash, fast to blast. |
Verse 3 *(Numskull)* |
If it’s one thang this nigga hate |
it’s niggaz swangin like Chimpaznes |
that’s why it’s no exception |
to the shit these niggaz hand me 20 years of struggle |
huddles an plans can’t amount to millions bubble |
that’s why we keep stacks tucked and cuddled |
no matter my home nigga |
my home is where I’m hustlin |
wit Killaz On The Payroll |
makin up for lost pay loads |
the Bay knows |
it’s hustle-matic til you drop |
stop |
lookin bold through the cuts |
lookin for cops |
I kept on runnin for three years |
too mutha fuckin long |
and had to cope wit everythang that went wrong |
I got the Lord in my life |
not cuz religion |
but the fact was a nigga had dreams an visions |
never listened to grown folks |
I did my own thang |
so mutha fuckin what if it’s the wrong thang |
it’s only one rule I live by keep some Killaz On The Payroll nigga |
an get yo shit right. |
I got some Killaz On The Payroll |
an they know |
when it’s time to handle business nigga lay low. |
Verse 4 *(Madd Maxx)* |
Presentin more urban tales |
of crack sales |
an black mail |
an black males, peelin black males |
that’s why these California streets is symbolic to Baghdad |
it’s sad |
they did my comrad bad |
smoked him wit the mag |
now he’s walkin wit a cane |
and wearin a shit bag |
my loc keep me focused got me sportin this rag |
wit this tradgey |
added to agony |
an frustration Farrah Kahn himself couldn’t stop me retaliation |
cuz his only climax |
was pay back |
he let his wounds heal an got more get back |
an low track |
posted up wit the family shack |
fully strapped |
wit a Benjamin big faced stack |
only to get attacked |
lookin for the sale |
he put in his work |
he swore on the turf, put his ass hole in the dirt |
cuz a million soldier died and served in these circle street wars |
before the deaths of Biggie and Tupac Shakur |
Is this the effects of being young black an poor? |
Do we genetically have what it takes to endure? |
had killaz lookin for him from Crenshaw |
to 5th Wards |
to the O-A-K |
6−9 Vill keeps it real |
cuz men sharpen men |
like steel sharpen steel |
we warriors for the skrill |
wit a whole lot of will |
an I’m never gonna put down my sword an kill |
cuz I’m out here in these fields wit the focus of a drill. |
Yeah, straight Mobbulation/Affiliation. |
Run up squared and put down |
assassination |
I got some Killaz On The Payroll |
an they know |
when it’s time to handle business nigga lay low |
(Uh, you niggaz ain’t knowin) |
Verse 5 *(Yukmouth)* |
Uh, uh. |
Well it’s that Vill nigga |
that real nigga |
that fill niggaz wit hot ones |
combined wit L we doubled barrelled guns |
mutha fuckaz best run |
fuckin around wit Al-bum, Num. |
2 so do not be fuckin around wit we and we won’t fuck around wit you |
I do hang wit Dru |
I do not be fuckin wit busta niggaz like you |
can’t trust niggaz in yo crew what to do, I don’t be drinkin no brew, I do get high til I kiss the sky an straight up run this |
juss Hindu, I do I go under and under like True Lies |
shakin these fleas and shoo-flys |
royalties from Noo-Trybe |
got niggaz tryin to twist me like screw drivers |
but fuck what you claimin |
we ain’t Mack 10 |
hoobangin, hooride |
So who die? |
Nobody ever knew |
cuz true |
killaz don’t fuck wit niggaz like you |
bumpin yo gums bout who got ya feelin the blues |
drunk an I say |
grabbin yo pumpkin head like Ooooh |
I been the Ice Cream Man since '92 |
comin through |
in the ice cream truck on triple gold shoes |
fuck too Tru’s |
Vogues give the hoes blues |
bitches choose to lose |
plus I puff indo, fool how could you refuse |
I do not be fuckin wit broke bitches like you |
but only if you knew my gang |
I’d have you running trains through the crew |
I do but since I got funk wit that No Limit crew |
somethin new |
niggaz been tryin to step on my shoes |
you know who |
that nigga got a perm like Dru |
burn like two |
Remmies when he perform for you |
I do kick it wit real niggaz from Frisco |
back to my niggaz from Get Low the RBL |
my nigga cool |
Nut 11/5 |
bump this in yo seven ride |
get a show and bring you |
about seven die |
mutha fuckaz startin to bribe |
but niggaz ain’t bumpin no 4-TAY |
cuz he too busy (bietch) tryin to smoke some more yay |
uh Jose around the Bay I knew |
he be funny lookin like G-Money |
nigga puffin voos |
heard you got married to a crack like |
you need to get some Get Right like Mac Mall |
cuz it act like you can’t rap at all |
we havin jobs and swingin on platinum balls |
so don’t get |
flat on your walls |
an get snatched up in a U-Haul |
cuz you’se a bitch nigga like RuPaul |
You all think you gonna make money dissin my crew? |
But only if you knew nigga. |
You fuckin wit these Mobb niggaz fool, uh. |
I got some Killaz On The Payroll |
an they know |
when it’s time to handle business nigga lay low. |
I got some Killaz On The Payroll |
an they know |
an they know. |