You Ain't a Killer

Big PunBig Pun 

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Big Pun

Christopher Lee Rios (November 9, 1971 – February 7, 2000), better known by his stage name Big Pun (short for Big Punisher), was a Puerto-Rican American rapper who emerged from the underground rap scene in The Bronx in the late 1990s. He first appeared on albums from The Beatnuts, on the track "Off the Books" in 1997, and on Fat Joe's second album Jealous One's Envy in 1995, on the track "Watch Out", prior to signing to Loud Records as a solo artist. Pun's lyrics are notable for technical efficiency, having minimal pauses to take a breath, heavy use of alliteration as well as internal and multi-syllabic rhyming schemes. He died from a heart attack at age 28. more »

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The harsh realities of life is takin' toll
Even Jesus Christ forsake my soul
Please tell me what price to pay to make it whole
Take control, I'm makin' dough, but not enough to blow
J.O.'s, they lust my flows, but ayo, I don't trust a soul
That's all I know or need to, these evil streets'll meet you halfway 
And eat you alive tryin' to survive illegal
I'll leave you lost, mount you on a cross, whip you like a horse
Sacrifice your life to a higher force then I'll stomp your corpse
It's the Bronx of course, recognize the accent
One of the last livin' still-in-action general assassins
Catchin' any wreck, blastin' any TEC, smashin' any chest
Passin' any test, Charles Manson in the flesh
Any last requests before you meet your maker?
Sow what you reap or wake up, shakin' up a storm like Anita Baker
I'll take you straight to Hell and fill your heart with hate
Incarcerate your fate in Satan's fiery lake, then I lock the gate
Make no mistake, this shit as real as Joe, we follow the killer's code
When we come for you, tell me where will you go?
Nowhere to run, hide, I'll find you and silence your screams
And even if you kill me, I'll still be in your fuckin' dreams

You ain't a killer, you still learnin' how to walk
From New York to Cali all the real niggas carry chalk
Mark you for death, won't even talk that East and West crap
From Watts to LeFrak, it ain't where you're from, it's where's your gat

You've made a grave mistake, shouldn't have come here, you changed your fate
Your brains'll make their debut on the table when I raise the stakes
The pain is great, but only for a second
It starts strong, then lessens, just when you restin', the Armaggedon sets in
Left him with so much stress (T.S.), blessed him with no regrets, yes
Welcome to Hell, son, the threshold of death
Face the serpent, I blaze your person, you get laced for certain
Leavin' Jakes no trace to work from, close the case like curtains
I'm hurtin' heads severely, really tryin' to bring the pain
There's nothin' more satisfyin' than when you cryin', screamin' my name
It's not a game, it's purple rain, floods of bloodstains
Big Pun's my thug's name, bustin' my guns, that's my love thing
I'll slit your jug' vein and snatch your Adam's Apple
John Madden tackle your corpse to hoist it on a cross at the tabernacle
That'll have to hurt, I'll work your body 'til it burst
Then curse tu vida like a Brujería verse
I'm worse than anything you ever been through, sick in the head and mental
Essentially meant to be the sole threat against you
When you awaken, your manhood'll be taken
Fakin' like you Satan when I'm the rhymin' abomination

You ain't a killer, you still learnin' how to walk
From New York to Cali all the real niggas carry chalk
Mark you for death, won't even talk that East and West crap
From Watts to LeFrak, it ain't where you're from, it's where's your gat

You ain't a killer, you still learnin' how to walk
From New York to Cali all the real niggas carry chalk
Mark you for death, won't even talk that East and West crap
From Watts to LeFrak, it ain't where you're from, it's where's your gat

It's hard to analyze which guys are spies
Be advised, people
We recognize who lies, it's all in the eyes, chico
We read 'em and see 'em for what they are, D's in undercover cars
Takin' my picture like I'm a fuckin' star
I'm up to par, my game is in a smash with half a million in the stash
Passport with the gats, first name and last
Ask anybody if my men are rowdy, give me the mini shotty
I'll body a nigga for a penny probably
I'm obligated to anything if it's crime-related
If it shine, I'll take it, still in my prime and I finally made it
I hate the fact that I'm the last edition, properly a stats magician
Could've went to college and been a mathematician
Bad decisions kept me out the game, now I'm strictly out for cream
Doin' things to fiends I doubt you'll ever dream
My team's the meanest thing you ever seen
Measured by the Heaven's kings down to the Devil's mezzanine
I've never screamed so loud, I'm proud to be alive
Most heads die by twenty-five or catch a quick three-to-five
So be advised ,the street's full of surprises
It's not what crew's the livest, one that survive, it's who's the wisest

You ain't a killer, you still learnin' how to walk
From New York to Cali all the real niggas carry chalk
Mark you for death, won't even talk that East and West crap
From Watts to LeFrak, it ain't where you're from, it's where's your gat

You ain't a killer, you still learnin' how to walk
From New York to Cali all the real niggas carry chalk
Mark you for death, won't even talk that East and West crap
From Watts to LeFrak, it ain't where you're from, it's where's your gat

You ain't a killer

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