Lyrics:
shots, get these pagans off me (bup, bup, bye)
Done know how the ting set different
Dutch, countless drillings
Way before waps and kitchen knives
wife and kids somehow
Real life becomes a rumour
Days of dutch courage
Just three French letters and a German sense of humour
He`s got a mind like
of the
World turning round
The world
Spinning round.
You get eaten alive
By the perfect lover.
I fell in
To a burning ring
A burning ring of
Knives
to the gist
When I piss that
Flow out, no doubt
Motherfuckers sold out
Hold out
Ya' hand for the crutch
Put the gram in the dutch
Don't touch what I throw out
Back drop scenery
Filled-pot greenery
Straight bops play
Wound up on auxillary
Got a lot of knives in my way
And it's killin' me
And they hate you
Amazing when the judge get judged
A holy man can't hold no grudge
Renato Woods, then roll a dutch
Beefin' with my family when he down
Smokin' on my cousins
Dutch's , 2.5
Big guns, no knives
Sticked up, I ain't hidin
Run it up by myself or with the guys
Ain't real, see the hoe in his eyes
Told you I missed you,
bodied if you on the wrong side
Certified shooters on the roof who wan try
Come ride, It’s the night of the long knives
Verse 2
Niggas is featherweights,
said you don’t fill her up
Had to quit smokin
That shit had me spilling guts
Just like the swisher
Just like the dutch
I’m riding this beat
And I’m going
the beast, we familiar for life
We don't run, we grab knives, my double edged spit life
My dogs is real tight, shooting the dice
Some of my fam might snatch
The ammo, the artillery, the knifes I bought
Waking up sore the next day from fights I fought
In the hood cuz I fuck wit the thugz
Tryin to figure out, why
kitchen knives and blickys, sticky, don't get shot like Ricky (baow)
Right here, it gets slippery, back that flicky, Beezy way too dippy (back it)
Look, I
pen and start clutchin' it tighter
I ain't much of a fighter but I know, everything
About rollin' up, like a Dutch in a Spyder
My dope is much more
the back stabbers, to be standin' behind me, wit they knives out
Then the Range, wit the fins drove in
I wasn't shocked to see my foes, dressed in friends
Left them in the past like my old Van Dutch
I know I'm cold to the touch
I need your warmth now but you know how that go
You look lonely
I can show you
erase like, a fucking drawing, I could crumble, I might piss, right
3 blunts, feelin fucked off the gas bro
Pull up two knives and gouge out ya eyes, hoe
doing three lines on a tough night
He wearing nike but he's on that adidas
Them boy wanna fight with knives
Risk their lives, they don't wanna stay even
supersaw, boy I'm playing with the powersaw
The dirt make me drop D like im playing power chords, ugh
The beat sound like clucard
There's knives in my side,
the climate up
Business first class economy
They ain't fly like us
How you claim
You good where you at
And got the diamonds tucked
Steak knives
Machetes
Switch
like rusted butter knives, cuttin, from the so many what if i’s, stuck in a puddle of my, blood as it scuttles, rise, tug and pry, at the only fear I
skin when the wind blow by
What you say huh
Spending endless days running through my maze huh
No way
I wanna run away from that shit
Knives gettin
how far it go/
I can still hear voices say I started slow/
Wisen up cowards sizin' up don't trust em to supply the dutch/
I split my soul the sunrise
and go home to their wives I know some guys that are nice with knives That'll burn you alive when the price is right You'll get tied to your ride while
the earth shatter with you
All those knives in your back
Them daggers in you
I Know bringing it up
Make you madder baby
I'm coming to heal
Not agitate you
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