Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Killafornia, artist - Transplants. Album song Haunted Cities, in the genre ПанкDate of issue: 20.06.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Epitaph
Song language: English
Killafornia |
| This is Killafornia, home of the killas |
| Killafornia, home of the killas |
| Smoke clears, only one winner |
| Killafornia, home of the killas |
| So many dreams that I’m chasing, |
| so many fuckers are hating |
| Somebody show me you hate me, |
| show me your dog cause I’m waiting |
| throw me a bowl I’ll be bakin' |
| only so much that I’m takin' |
| Handing your privates to Lincoln, |
| misunderstood and complacent |
| You wanna stand for what medal, |
| that ain’t no medal of honor |
| You want to strike like a general, |
| but you end up a goner, |
| bringing a donor to honor |
| It’s only fair that I warn ya |
| that I’m a killa from California, |
| waiting for action and drama |
| If you want it we got it, |
| from prostitutes to narcotics |
| Have you empty your pockets, |
| I’m fucking pro with the product |
| there ain’t no way you can stop it |
| I just suggest that you drop it |
| these fuckers making me cock it |
| cause they mistakingly mock it |
| I leave em' blazed and baffled |
| Like when they cut me with scalpels |
| never trying to be grappled |
| that’s why I aim for the apple |
| from the hood to the castle |
| I’m still considered an asshole |
| grand prize of the raffle |
| napalm and shrapnel |
| got the dreamers and schemers |
| And the ballas with Beamers |
| so many leeches beneath us |
| and they wishing they heed us |
| You’ll Salute like a fetus |
| you can never defeat us |
| bring all your heaters to heat us |
| when you attempt to defeat us |
| you be try to imagine what happens |
| when you impart with some garbage |
| everything in life is so tragic |
| no matter who is the hardest |
| no matter who your god is |
| I’m telling you fuckers regardless |
| Don’t even get me started |
| I can be so retarded |
| It’s like a blessing from Satan |
| the world is mine for the taking |
| bent over model of makin' |
| and yet still I’m a shake 'em |
| we take the name that we breakin' |
| any rules that you makin' |
| Ain’t nothing pertaining |
| I turn a pig into bacon |
| I’ll save my aim for the fuzz |
| And always make with the glove |
| down to spray up the club |
| and let 'em say who it was |
| bitch I’m a failure at love |
| unless you cater to thugs |
| you can mess me with hugs |
| I’ll fuckin' kiss you with slugs |