Lyrics:
understand I'm the beginning of the end
The alpha, omega, the present, and the future
So hold on to your Winchester
Cause the hollow tip penetrate lead
chillin' with my girl
[Kool Keith]
Flying nighttime, eating peanuts on the plane
With no moneycontrol, my stress builds on my brain
My ticket's oneway
I'm
a jewel like Solomon, but never followed men
'Cause if you do your brain is more hollow than
Space oblivia, or the abyss
With no trace of trivia, left
through some shit
From New York to LA
If I may
Let me say
You will pay
Salary
Bet you'll see me in the
Fortune 500 by May
I'll tip toe
Through the window
trippin' ain't no love for the other side
Rap beef turn to homicides when we land on them and them hollows fly
Had a bag but you broke nigga
You ain't
know
I keep plodding on regardless
Like an actor in a show
Cos I'm just holding on tight by the tips of my fingers
And in the darkest of nights still
got the shit on lock why you on my dick
Like a bitch walkin' around like you stone high
Hollow tip bullets don't die, nigga they multiply
I'm gon'
we're rarely disrespected
I got all the time that I need to kill
What's that time?
It's time to get ill
You been fully captivated by that funky ass
the drop on all you niggas out there claimin' that you do dirt
But the truth hurts and it kills you to listen
Like the sound of hollow point tip bullets
have
And no i'll never let it go
So every blunt you see me smoke just know
That bitch a personal
I'm smoking runt's inside the whip
With hollow tip's up
hollow-point talent tips
Double-S, double the threat, double your bet
Double up on that cash if you decide to invest
You sound like Big, you sound like Jay,
like Christmas carols
Empty out the fucking clip
That's thirty something hollow tips
Grab the pistol by the barrel
And beat you with the mother fucking
trip, get pistol-whipped
By a psycho maniac sick in his head
want to be a gangster, now he's dead
His brother took over, ain't no sweat
Bought a new
Think I give a fuck about some silly bitch named Gore?
Yo PMRC, here we go, raw
Yo Tip, what's the matter? You ain't gettin' no dick?
You're bitchin'
brain (Sleezy)
I'll leave your face in broken
Pieces, screamin' at the rain, ah
(Sleezy)
One up in the chamber, let that shit go off
A hollow-tip is all
no way out
just one more shot...
of celestial wine
and chthonic downer
to flush this bitter grief
out of my head
but there is
no scent of relief
sweet
people may be more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared
No one dared disturb
on
Cause 50 this; 50 that; 50 stay with a gat
Thirty-two shots in the clip, hollow tips in the MAC
But when I come through, shh - the talking stop
My
hollow tips (sheesh)
I love buying clothes but fuck the drip
Only time I care when I'm in your girls lips (ha ha)
Opportunities you can't let em slip
I was
a girl on marjuana
i was in love with a girl on cocaine
she had everything going but a brain
we'd talk endlessly for hours
but by morning it goes sour
i
throat, ooh
See his ghost, as I shoot when I peek out
Hollow tips hit, make his chest wanna leak out
Shot to his head, made his brain wanna reroute Sippin'
he's not in command;
The decisions underwritten
By the cash in his hand
Bought a sweater for
His weimariner too
Now I'm no mad man,
But that's
spiritual essence
And he goes by the name of, uh
Hood
Check your rhyme, punk that ass or get got, F it (shit)
I lick buckshots, Hood, madman, I rip up
a scope
And blaze shit up much more harder to those
We like barbers and hoes flow is like
Hard shit yeah
I'm unstoppable the rhyme is hollow tip
Throws
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