Lyrics:
the kill
(Verse 2)
Peep the sag, I was fronted two G's by the mob
Two Z's and the Saab for this hitman job
Burnt my hand for initiation, cats told me
way
Round in circles I'd go
Longing to tell you
But afraid and shy
I'd let my golden chances
Pass me by
Soon you'd leave me
Off you would go
In
the younger moon attained with love.
It changed as almost strained amidst clear manna from above.
I crucified my hate and held the word within my hand.
There's
Look
Grandma why don't you hold on to my hand
Hold it tight hold it tighter than you ever thought you can
Don't you cry I won't lie I'll stand here
these hands.
I think by now I know,
Where to let go
All I know is here I am baby
Won't you stand by me?
I'm not bending tonight
But, I'm twisted
powers activate real quick
But then I could grow about five feet more with an extra dick!
One dick to hold in my hand when I'm rockin the mic
The extra
hold my death (Ugh) all for as long as I can
Knowing my man (What!) plottin' with the chrome in his hand
Holdin' me back, niggaz gettin' shady over
a white cup in my hand, we might toast
I got Hump I got Redd to the side, we'll chunk it up
Uh ain't no drank in the cup, 'cause I done already drunk it
be top
In my genre I'm the Godfather like James Brown was the God of soul
I remember in 05, was the king of grime, I was on a role
2017, new day
don't like it eat a D
I'm here at ring tone misc. and ring tone net
Tryin' to label southern dance music, ring tone rap
They cappin' on the coop, but
by lies
Times you embarrassed me I swallowed my pride
I'm tired of telling you I got nothing to hide
I'm in the studio at night you think I'm out
volcanic microphone
Robotic tonic atonic
The microphone is mine so MC's panic
I get down for my ground
You could see I met James Brown in your town
Flipping
go against my scene
Even if you're the realest
I based my career on
Proving myself to non-believers
My name's gonna ring bells
To newspaper
to be a killer (New York Stand Up)
You wanted to be the Champ! (Got your boy in the booth nigga)
You ain't hungry
Matter of fact I don't want you in my
a champions theme song
This a champions theme song
Thow dem Diamonds up the rings on
Da da da da daaaah
I saw you Holdin hands out in public song
You ain't
Flight jackets, I skipped that
Azael for retail
Gimme five, I'll flip that
Man
Sonny rolled dirty like I'm Roy'al
My fake Bapes used to get thumbs up in
JuneOnnaBeat (JuneOnnaBeat)
I'm a king like James, ay
I want rings like Way, ay
'Bout to spread my wings, fly away, ay
House in the hills where
baby-mom, for your only son
I'm takin' e'eryone
Anything that's dealin' with dough, we got that
Cock back, hold in position for combat
Stand clear, all
it to that Hot 9-7
B.I.G. rest in peace, I know your smilin in heaven
Look here
I'm on the road to riches and diamond rings
Real gangstas do real
bonds men
I'm constant, on that paper chase
Blow zip codes from bricks to 8-1-8
Doc serve til you lickin' the plate
Battle royal, in the ring smoking like
the student kills the teacher
Any last words before I send you to your dream?
Hold my hands and pray
[lyrics in Creole]
You don't got knowledge
think I should belong in a cage!
If my race is boring, I should paint my fucking face
White, black, orange, grey, yellow, brown, pink!
So, here comes
stand there in disbelief with my hand on my head wondering how she got 'em in (fuck)
Every time we move, you know a nigga gotta win
We got a bag
high, rolling by, when Gunn die
He gon' try to preach the streets then go to the sky
Yup! That hold water, like drizzle in a paper cup
This one
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