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