Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Killas, artist - Slaughterhouse. Date of issue: 10.08.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Killas |
| You fuckin with a killa |
| Lyrical, serial, either/or killa |
| Uhh, I’m in love with this pep |
| Switch a nigga up, put a thug in a dress |
| Chop a nigga head off, pick his head up |
| Turn it upside-down, drink his blood from his NECK |
| Uhh, I fly across you with the Coupe now |
| I’m fire! |
| The fire marshal shut the booth down |
| Uh, you fuckin with a killa |
| Take your body, rape your body, dump it in the river |
| Turn myself in then, beat the case for it then |
| Turn around and put «I really did it"on my Twitter |
| Uhh, I’m a FUCKED UP nigga! |
| Pill poppin, e’rybody FUCKED UP with us |
| Me and Joey the cottonmouth kings |
| (I love you baby) What the FUCK you talkin 'bout, sing |
| (Uhh, uh, I’m fuckin with a killa) |
| So crazy (I'm fuckin with a killa) |
| (I'm fuckin with a killa) |
| Lyrical, serial, either/or killa! |
| First the clouds form, then they dark in the sky |
| Then the heavens roar when a couple of them collide |
| Then the most toxic rain landed on my |
| caesar then Jesus Christ, the storm arrive |
| 6-foot-somethin made of Spanish descent |
| What I write is fresh air like my hand’s in a vent |
| Y’all 'bout to be lost like you don’t know where your manager went |
| That’s just a heads up, cause none of y’all was plannin a vic |
| I’m from the projects, Grey Goose, a crate on the bench |
| Mike’s Hard Lemonade’ll get you amateurs bent |
| Where I’m from they don’t hesitate the cannon that spits |
| Stand by the wrong man and watch your thoughts land on a fence! |
| I’m the voice of the gutter where your boys serve your mother |
| And the noise from a clucker puts your boy on a cover |
| We annoy undercovers cause they never put on |
| We from the hood, we don’t snitch boy we weather the storm |
| We some killas! |
| I’m comin with flash just to blast your facemask |
| Bullets flyin faster than the NASA spacecraft |
| Get half your face smashed by the click-clack |
| The impact’s a passion of massive plane crash |
| The mic minister write literature, rhyme sinister |
| might injure, your nine endin your life when it’s the |
| prime miniature time witness the prime |
| Innocent lives kissin goodbye, picture the I, givin a FUCK! |
| The truth (walkin) just walked in the booth (talkin) |
| Too (often) I put a hot beat in a new (coffin) |
| For instrumentals I dig a grave |
| Then drop so many bars around you when you listen feel like you in a cage |
| Niggaz styles is sour, you makin lemonade |
| Take a thousand hours to write, our rhymes (Minute Made) |
| Me, Joey and Joell leave you crippled |
| Mother-FUCK five cents, but we’ll kill you over Nickel |
| We some killas! |
| I disagreed with my shadow when he got on Twitter (so I) |
| Don’t like bein followed so I shot that nigga |
| A known loner; |
| that’s backwards |
| I’m a loner that’s known to attempt to put a comber in a coma |
| You lookin at the prime suspect, with enough stress |
| If you can give a FLUCK, then I can give FLUCK less |
| Obsessed with who I struck next so I set it for |
| success when I spit cause the vic is my next metaphor |
| Self-destructive mixed with light lies |
| If, you lookin for psychotic, I got it |
| Or DON’T! |
| Maybe y’all are retarded, absurd |
| And I observe while the whole world tries to act reserved |
| Need a Oscar, I’ll put on an act that’s superb |
| E’rybody relax, it’s words |
| Maybe it’s NOT! |
| It’s gotta be reasonable doubt (BUT) |
| Reason don’t come out my mouth, I let it come out of hers |
| I’m fuckin with a killa |
| I’m fuckin with a killa |
| I’m fuckin with a killa |
| I’m fuckin with a killa |