Lyrics:
Before I leave the heat, I put two in rain grove for my range rove
Hot to death, cops is vex
I push a buck 60 if they try to block the lex
Drive by
cones when I'm firing chrom
I hittin ladies to old men in retirement homes
Dail 9-1-1 runnin gun in the street dungeon
Earth, moon and stars checkin out
rove
Hot to death, cops is vex
I push a buck 60 if they try to block the lex
Drive by on the baja
Snatch the cartier watch I
Boucnce laughing off
When you on that bitch shit
Forget quitting who was the first to shout out L.A.
And now I represent that gun clique everyday
Lord forgive me if I'm
Fake comfort, the devastating kiss of death,
fake love, bitten by the deadliest snake.
Broken hope, you played me like a marionette, crushed
Welcome dearly beloved, we're gathered here today to witness the descent
A display of death so profound you won't believe your eyes
Our forsaken,
C'est la vie, such is life, don't bring sand to the beach
You can judge somebody by the company they keep
Look, my friends kill my friends
They love their plagues and deaths, and they're plotting for what's next
She gives the Reap a kiss, then he rubs up on her flesh
She tries to bring
vigilante justice
We the fucking people
Of the extorted and abused
Fuck toys by the powers above
It makes me sick to my stomach
Why the fuck is there not more
Boy jeans you're wearin?)
Hell nah hoe, you know they Polo's
I been used again, accused again, this time
been wrong to chop somethin done by one
through it all in my life
I done watched close niggas to me die
By the gun and the knife (I feel pain)
This for niggas on they own or
Locked up on the phone
Especially where I'm from, we live by the gun
Put money over bitches, and die over funds
You could lie in the trunk or at the blink
Of an eye get jumped
Can't
Sucker, when you see the barrel, better pucker
Up for the kiss of death when silhouettes rush ya
Cold like Russia, six feet under
Sprayin' at your crew
at your funeral
The Zig's on my hip with an extra clip
'Cause I'd rather be tried by 12 than carried by 6
La-di-da-di
Saturday night and we like
And go to bed early and sad
Only when I am with you
Am I not bored to death
(I’m fucking bored to death)
Summertime in LA
Is much too long for me
ain’t no soul to rise
Just a kiss from the angel of death there’s your legacy in a second of breath
Nobody knows if it really matters what comes next
Will
at your funeral
The Zig's on my hip with an extra clip
Cause I'd rather be tried by 12 than carried by 6
La-di-da-di
Saturday night and we like
What i miss the most
About you is your voice that haunts me like a ghost
Or maybe the way you kiss is
What i miss the most
Lah lah la la lah lah lah
at your funeral
The Zig's on my hip with an extra clip
Cause I'd rather be tried by 12 than carried by 6
La-di-da-di
Saturday night and we like
Keep a ray-gun my purse
Got a feature from Nevada
And an adlibs done by Gur
In London, winter coats
On the neck is fur
Boots to match, hangin' with
the days and be real
The days of boys and rappers
Soul snatchers, gun clappers, and bloodsucking crackers
The body catchers who keep their weapons
Black, Go
Pick up what you can and run
Furious vexation
Pursued by a choir of death
Black tongues and flaming breath
From the maelstrom of man's will
I be doing this shit on the regular
Gun got a name, as I pull out Mariah, u wildinout by the way that I carry it
Pop me a perc, then I finish
the guns concealed
If you don't shoot first the country will GMOs and a bunch of pills
They called you by my name they called you Mrs. Gregg
You said "it's
Discuss these kiss of death by la guns Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In