Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Appetite to Kill, artist - Vakill. Album song Armor of God Instrumentals, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 28.11.2011
Record label: Molemen
Song language: English
Appetite to Kill |
| Here’s what they think about you) -→ Ice Cube |
| — Vakill ain’t put a record out in four years |
| — That nigga is not hot |
| — Ah, Vakill fell off |
| (Drop a old school beat) -→ Ice Cube |
| (Damn) -→ Ice Cube |
| (Oh yeah… it ain’t over, motherfuckers) -→ Ice Cube |
| (The motherfuckin saga continues) -→ Dr. Dre |
| Nigga, I am |
| Two scoops of truth with whipped cream slung in a cup |
| The flow is bananas, the world’s on my nuts |
| Have a sundae |
| Who owe me the cheddar, start coughin up |
| (?), these ain’t bars, they zodiac letters |
| A beast reborn, mellow |
| I discharge the nicest shit between bars like reformed felons |
| Be warned, fellow |
| Acappella spit to deform melons |
| Beat off to torture till I reach abnorm swellin |
| Salute the young lion with heart, dyin to start |
| Smart bombs defyin form, pry on you marks |
| I am the spark from the iron occupyin the dark |
| Pryin apart niggas' skulls, fuckin tryina chart |
| The shoulders of a giant is arched |
| Locate who’s defyin my march, iron my marks and starch 'em |
| Fuck (?) rocket scientists smarten |
| There will be none after this nut, I’m tubes-tyin this art, so |
| Any nigga’s flammable, understandable |
| Get spanked with the handle when the ammo load |
| Okay I’m reloaded, now let the hammers blow |
| I am Hannibal with the metal enameled, fam-o |
| That’ll chew you from head to camel toe |
| This is the crown Chicago intended |
| Watch the body count grow in minutes |
| Most ground-breakin flow infinite |
| How the fuck can it not be, every two bars a body’s goin in it |
| I’m next shit, dookie, manure with a newer cooky maneouver |
| That’s gangsta and spooky as Tookie and Hoover |
| Spit loogies with Rugers |
| Alien part VI, acid reflux, Uzi and mucous |
| Change the channel, you’re spooked easy |
| Bars is (?) influenced, (?) Poughkeepsie |
| I make dead rapper spirits of all sorts hover |
| Fuck Sports, I will EA-curse the Source covers |
| Where I’m from we murder like it was legalized |
| Justice system and crime rate are never equalized |
| So many beefs left undone, and birds that’s uncooked |
| You can die from salmonella and E. coli |
| Murkin everything in you marks' likeness |
| Black roses, fuck the tears and (?) niceness |
| Next nigga with my name in vain |
| Gettin pistol-whipped till his ass roll back like Wal-Mart prices |
| In Chi you got options |
| Either 'All Is Well' or a G |
| Spit bars or sell you a ki |
| My diction’s like Satan’s crucifixion |
| I got bein a beast nailed to the T |
| This the coronation of the crowd’s welcome back |
| I (?) them packs to the pin cause I felt them crack |
| You ain’t hard as you seldom act |
| If I GPS 'pussy' I end up at your welcome mat |
| The grittiest this city has seen |
| Still spittin extra-strength chlamydia with hideous (?) |
| A pitiless king, compell 'em with witty 16's |
| The insidious shittin on idiots pretty extreme |
| And niggas think just cause I Barack the vote |
| I won’t concoct a quote that slice a nigga from his foodbox to throat |
| Do no provoke |
| Or take six and let us know if the death of 2Pac's a hoax |
| You can’t compare it (?) |
| It’s barbaric, beyond what the standard 16 bars merit |
| Inherit my cop scars and bear it |
| No barracks in front of a firing squad if the (?) wear it |
| My code of ethics — live and die by the Chi |
| Bar counts is portions yo body’s divided by |
| (?) by six shots |
| This is a Debo and Biggie stare-down, we will never see eye-to-eye |
| This is Ren’s flow with Eazy’s adlibs |
| Destructive Dre appetite showin mad ribs |
| Cube young and obnoxious |
| Any nigga offended got skid marks in front of they boxers |
| My engine runs on 20-barrel-gun bingin |
| And the name of the (?) when son’s injured |
| He thinkin a nut’s cringin |
| Shove a barrel in your mouth so wide that Superhead jaws is unhingin |
| Pop Patron and pour clear champagne |
| Toast to salute the most feared champ’s reign |
| Or get your queer cap slain |
| I don’t just shit on you, I rub it in, my definition of smear campaign |
| Who got the sickest bars, blitzkrieging tracks |
| Before you answer that, here’s some intriguing facts |
| Your flow sucks dick Strahan style |
| You should make the All-Madden team the way your jam leads the league in sacks |
| For the paper I’m clappin righteous steel |
| That’s the live shit, send that rapper ranked to kill |
| Your afterlife is Sealed, you ain’t sick, so sacrifice your grill |
| All you’re feedin is my appetite to kill |
| (My appetite to kill) -→ Eazy-E |
| (You guys know who I’m talkin to) |
| (Say what) |
| (Suprise niggas) -→ N.W.A |