| Here’s what they think about you) -→ Ice Cube
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| — Vakill ain’t put a record out in four years
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| — That nigga is not hot
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| — Ah, Vakill fell off
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| (Drop a old school beat) -→ Ice Cube
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| (Damn) -→ Ice Cube
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| (Oh yeah… it ain’t over, motherfuckers) -→ Ice Cube
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| (The motherfuckin saga continues) -→ Dr. Dre
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| Nigga, I am
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| Two scoops of truth with whipped cream slung in a cup
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| The flow is bananas, the world’s on my nuts
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| Have a sundae
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| Who owe me the cheddar, start coughin up
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| (?), these ain’t bars, they zodiac letters
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| A beast reborn, mellow
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| I discharge the nicest shit between bars like reformed felons
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| Be warned, fellow
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| Acappella spit to deform melons
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| Beat off to torture till I reach abnorm swellin
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| Salute the young lion with heart, dyin to start
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| Smart bombs defyin form, pry on you marks
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| I am the spark from the iron occupyin the dark
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| Pryin apart niggas' skulls, fuckin tryina chart
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| The shoulders of a giant is arched
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| Locate who’s defyin my march, iron my marks and starch 'em
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| Fuck (?) rocket scientists smarten
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| There will be none after this nut, I’m tubes-tyin this art, so
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| Any nigga’s flammable, understandable
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| Get spanked with the handle when the ammo load
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| Okay I’m reloaded, now let the hammers blow
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| I am Hannibal with the metal enameled, fam-o
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| That’ll chew you from head to camel toe
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| This is the crown Chicago intended
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| Watch the body count grow in minutes
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| Most ground-breakin flow infinite
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| How the fuck can it not be, every two bars a body’s goin in it
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| I’m next shit, dookie, manure with a newer cooky maneouver
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| That’s gangsta and spooky as Tookie and Hoover
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| Spit loogies with Rugers
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| Alien part VI, acid reflux, Uzi and mucous
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| Change the channel, you’re spooked easy
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| Bars is (?) influenced, (?) Poughkeepsie
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| I make dead rapper spirits of all sorts hover
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| Fuck Sports, I will EA-curse the Source covers
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| Where I’m from we murder like it was legalized
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| Justice system and crime rate are never equalized
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| So many beefs left undone, and birds that’s uncooked
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| You can die from salmonella and E. coli
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| Murkin everything in you marks' likeness
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| Black roses, fuck the tears and (?) niceness
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| Next nigga with my name in vain
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| Gettin pistol-whipped till his ass roll back like Wal-Mart prices
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| In Chi you got options
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| Either 'All Is Well' or a G
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| Spit bars or sell you a ki
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| My diction’s like Satan’s crucifixion
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| I got bein a beast nailed to the T
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| This the coronation of the crowd’s welcome back
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| I (?) them packs to the pin cause I felt them crack
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| You ain’t hard as you seldom act
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| If I GPS 'pussy' I end up at your welcome mat
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| The grittiest this city has seen
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| Still spittin extra-strength chlamydia with hideous (?)
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| A pitiless king, compell 'em with witty 16's
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| The insidious shittin on idiots pretty extreme
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| And niggas think just cause I Barack the vote
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| I won’t concoct a quote that slice a nigga from his foodbox to throat
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| Do no provoke
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| Or take six and let us know if the death of 2Pac's a hoax
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| You can’t compare it (?)
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| It’s barbaric, beyond what the standard 16 bars merit
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| Inherit my cop scars and bear it
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| No barracks in front of a firing squad if the (?) wear it
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| My code of ethics — live and die by the Chi
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| Bar counts is portions yo body’s divided by
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| (?) by six shots
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| This is a Debo and Biggie stare-down, we will never see eye-to-eye
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| This is Ren’s flow with Eazy’s adlibs
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| Destructive Dre appetite showin mad ribs
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| Cube young and obnoxious
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| Any nigga offended got skid marks in front of they boxers
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| My engine runs on 20-barrel-gun bingin
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| And the name of the (?) when son’s injured
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| He thinkin a nut’s cringin
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| Shove a barrel in your mouth so wide that Superhead jaws is unhingin
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| Pop Patron and pour clear champagne
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| Toast to salute the most feared champ’s reign
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| Or get your queer cap slain
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| I don’t just shit on you, I rub it in, my definition of smear campaign
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| Who got the sickest bars, blitzkrieging tracks
|
| Before you answer that, here’s some intriguing facts
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| Your flow sucks dick Strahan style
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| You should make the All-Madden team the way your jam leads the league in sacks
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| For the paper I’m clappin righteous steel
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| That’s the live shit, send that rapper ranked to kill
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| Your afterlife is Sealed, you ain’t sick, so sacrifice your grill
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| All you’re feedin is my appetite to kill
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| (My appetite to kill) -→ Eazy-E
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| (You guys know who I’m talkin to)
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| (Say what)
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| (Suprise niggas) -→ N.W.A |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Appetite to Kill , by - Vakill. Song from the album Armor of God Instrumentals, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп