Murda tha Scene

DJ Kay SlayDJ Kay Slay 

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DJ Kay Slay

Keith Grayson (born August 14, 1966), professionally known as DJ Kay Slay, is an American hip hop disc jockey (DJ) from New York City. He was referred to by The New York Times as "Hip Hop's One-Man Ministry of Insults". Kay Slay goes by several monikers, namely The Drama King, Dezzy Dez and Slap Your Favorite DJ. He has released four studio albums, The Streetsweeper, Vol. 1, The Streetsweeper, Vol. 2, The Champions: North Meets South (with Greg Street) and More Than Just a DJ. more »

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I murdered the scene
Slay, what up?
Hip hop frontline
Blue chip in the building
You already know, yeah
I murdered the scene
King, look

I'm feelin' like I'm too hard for the game I'm in
Caviar seats salmon, that's five, I filet my Benz
Militant is how I train my men
Nigga diss me at 9, he'll be floatin' in the lake by ten
I don't f*ck with confused liars
Rather lay low with a slut, consumin' my nut like a new diet
Brother, I'm too fire (Fire)
As far as beef, fifty cal Desert Eag', my gun'll defuse riots
Talk tough under pictures for clout
When I see you, hope your heart is as big as your mouth
'Cause your train will be rippin' you out
Now I'm rockin' on IG Live while I'm dickin' your spouse
The god handle business
My young wolf keep a 22 on like Andrew Wiggins
You a bitch and your man is snitchin'
Real nigga that rap, I'm not a rapper, understand the difference

I murdered the scene
I murdered the scene

Look, f*ck all that Instagram beefin', it's on sight
Now you gotta follow him and run into a nigga in real life
Beat him down and make his crew bleed
Then you gotta tag him and post it all on your newsfeed
I don't need the TEC
I can get up close and stab you and watch you bleed to death
Fake niggas I can't respect
It's like I don't know they wifi password, we can't connect
My Spanish niggas will hand off pain
I can get you killed right after they finish up a handball game
Out here close friends'll murk you
It don't mean somebody in your corner just 'cause he in your circle
You know they can't wait for you to fall
Or see you in the casket or either fightin' cases with the law
I still rep a murderous team
Haddy Racks wrapped up, niggas know I murdered the scene
Racks

I murdered the scene (What?)
I murdered the scene (Bynoe, right)

Murdered the scene, a code red
Yellow tape the block up, boy, they all dead (Uh)
They hit some parked cars but they got the opps
Had the window rolled down when they split the block (Right)
They do what I say so
Tear the trunk off your whip with that Draco
Nobody seen shit, I wish you niggas tell
Send him to your mama's crib before I make bail
Pillow talkin' to these hoes got your homie hit
Bandana on the barrel on some homie shit
That's what happen when the grips come out
Get your ass a set of wings when the fifth rung out (Yeah)
They knocked his dad hat off his head
Closed casket, that's a bonus, did him filthy for the bread
Mask on, no chance to run
Dial 911 when you see my gun 'cause I

I murdered the scene (Yeah)
I murdered the scene (Oh, I'm on 'em)

I ain't tryna hear none of you cats screamin' New York's back
'Cause when the city fell off, where were you dudes at?
Y'all was rappin' all Southern, I had New York's back
And that's word to the A-Train, that's a New York fact
Well shit I been had the ammo, I just needed a gat
In the hands of a DJ who wasn't scared to clap
Give Slay the head nod (What else?), then turn my back
Bet he catch you outside, homie, how 'bout that?
Bitches scared when I'm in here 'cause what I do to a track
I'll leave your scalp wide open, ain't no glue for that
Homie, I black with the ink, I'll go tit for tat
That bar went over your head, you can bring that back
Now if my dough not risin', I'ma switch the batch
Catch the first nigga ballin', make him kiss the bat
I'm from Far Rock, Queens, we don't get get the strap (You know why?)
'Cause we ride with that shit in our lap
And when it's on, motherfuckers

I murdered the scene
I murdered the scene (Yeah)

Ever since I can remember, a nigga been gettin' paid (Facts)
Rubber band up loaf for me, I ain't talkin' DeJ
Nigga can't live with a body shot from the gauge
Did some things I'll never tell 'em, I'm takin' 'em to the grave (That's a fact)
Streets gettin' messy, can't show these niggas no love (Nah)
My mama told me you ain't gon' make it in sellin' drugs
Everybody had dumbs, I was cakin' and sellin' dubs
Went broke, I don't mind go and takin' it from the plug
Don't even grab that
You ain't gon' use it, give me my strap back (Give it back)
School full of enemies, hammer all in my backpack
Numbers that we did, niggas still hustle to match that
I'm duckin' what they throwin', a bullet, ain't tryna catch that
Everybody got problems, up to you on how you handle it (Facts)
Fly lil' nigga in the shit that's on the mannequin
Heard these niggas plottin', tell my niggas bring them hammers in
Block gettin' hotter, every day a nigga gamblin', Bucks (Kay Slay, what up?)

I murdered the scene
I murdered the scene

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