Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Death Threat , by - The Brand New Heavies. Release date: 31.12.1991
Song language: English
Death Threat |
| Some think that I’m a flake, but I’m no fake nigga cause I Drink a bitch, make him a witch and burn his ass at the stake |
| With the .44 mag it’s so simple |
| Put it to his temple, fuck it, I give a nigga permanent dimples |
| Easing up on the fast slow, but I let your ass know |
| The block’s too hot like Tabasco |
| Brand New Heavies on the tracks, G Rap on the wax |
| Cold bumping, got motherfuckers doing jumping jacks |
| You motherfuckers lost it I bake your ass like a cake and all y’all flakes get frosted |
| Cause when G Rap is on the mix |
| Niggas start shitting bricks and turning into chick with small dicks |
| So a bitch, lyrics with a live band |
| (Yo this shit is funky) Yo fuck funky, the shit hit the fan |
| Shame if you’re stepping to my set |
| You niggas get wet, nah fuck it, it’s just a motherfucking death threat |
| Yeah, I got you bitches on lockdown, you niggas get knocked down |
| You’re running cause I’m gunning your block down, punk |
| So save the bitch riff cause my four-fifth lifts |
| I’m tossing stiff off of fucking cliffs |
| Get close, I got you on scope, you walking on thin rope |
| So I’m a shoot 'em up like dope |
| Cause to make my notes I’m a cut throats |
| Bodies are thrown off boats and do a dead man’s float |
| Straight down a river |
| Huh, with a bullet inside his motherfucking liver |
| Another hooker got thrown out |
| Stepped right into the crossfire and got her brains blown out |
| So you niggas better buck |
| Cause when my coat’s full of buckshots, I don’t give a fuck |
| You think you’re down with the murder guys |
| Bullshit, say hello to that dirt you’re gonna fertilize |
| You wonder why the area’s stark |
| Homicides just fell ten bones since our car drove |
| When they opened the other trunks that were closed |
| Full of five unidentified John Does |
| All found dead on arrival |
| Cause I pulled up slowly and made 'em holy like Bibles |
| They find a letter and cassette |
| Red and said it’s just a motherfucking death threat |
| Send the bodies to the morgue for a freezing |
| I got the motherfucking finger on the trigger cause it’s nigga season |
| A punk tried to drop me I left the body sloppy so they can’t perform an autopsy |
| Dig a hole for the bitch |
| And put all his pieces and bits inside a ditch |
| Yo, you don’t think you’re going under |
| I got a bullet with your name, your address, and your phone number |
| So if you want to play games |
| I’m blowing you the fuck out the frame |
| You tried to front and got murdered last night |
| So now you float to the motherfucking light |
| So I’m a step to your grave and make a toast |
| And start shooting at your motherfucking ghost |
| So may the Lord be with ya Cause I ain’t no saint and I don’t paint pretty pictures |
| It ain’t nothing but bloodshed |
| Stains of brains on the rug and less blood in your head |
| You want to make me upset? |
| Huh, then I’m a promise you a motherfucking death threat |