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Clipping – killer (feat. kill rogers)

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исполнитель Clipping

правообладатель Warner Music Group Sub Pop Records

длительность 00:30

размер 7.73 MB

битрейт 320 kbps

загружено Warner-Music-Group

killer (feat. kill rogers)
Killer, killer The killer, killer It’s the killer The killer, killer The killer, killer It’s the-- Killer The killer, killer It’s the killer The killer, killer The killer, killer It’s the-- Nine in the waist, half that in the glove box Rope in the trunk, strychnine in a lunch box Hefty bag, Ziploc Prada bag, hollaback Plenty of ties to go around and all these bitches on the sack In the sack Murder cap, dial M for Massacre Dial nine to outside lines to lead you to the catheter Cater to the catty comb, cat stand, kitty corner But the realest gonna stand alone and shoot 'em like a soldier Necktie, Colombian Blood on the rug again Rip a fuckin' liver out the gizzards jitterbuggin' in the chest cavity Steal a gold tooth for the vanity Snatch a wallet, call it in The papers call it tragedy It’s nine lives, eight racks Seven hoes to bring it back Six tray, five miles per hour sitting on four flats Three fingers twisted up Two shots, «rra rra» One King Kong motherfucker ridin' low in a fitted cap Killer, killer Gotta be a killer These is killers You fuck with killers, they’ll fucking kill you You’s a-- You roll with killers Bitch them ain’t killers Me the killer The name is killer Killer the Killer How many killers Could murder killers All these killers Ain’t really killers Claimin' they killers when they-- Ain’t fuckin' killin' Got all these killers out to kill ya Cuz that’s a killer You ain’t a killer You’s a-- Slit wrist This Pac tick is my knock sniff My time’s up in this Glock’s bitch I’m fired up and my cock’s rich Manned up to be boyed down Gold watch is my Band-Aid Grip ten bills, call it blood money that I ripped up cuz I’m half-paid Jackson raping Benjamin, he pleads Lincoln, good thing I have change Picked up the penny face down Then my life turned upside down so I rampage Let that Pit Bull bite down Whatchu scared of? Fuckin' pipe down Pipe dreams for this gasoline Two fists covered in Vaseline Ash my weed on this body bag Put raps in a bottle, then light the rag Fuego gave you pay so fuck your halo, say no To daring police who claim to care, just save 'em You ain’t no gangsta, I’m a gangsta, pop pills at the station So what’s a mantra to the memento-minded I write that shit in blood, if you have a pencil find it Why so fucking quiet? I am the riot to repo, the dog in reservoir Tyrant beatin' the license out of poetic whores «I'm calling from in the house» That’s what he said when the phone clicked off, and the gun cocked back, and his brains blew out, and his bitch she laughed, poured a glass Whispered «Baby make me shout» But she ain’t screamin' no more because that dick up in her mouth Got pissed off, got pissed on Got pumped like a piston If Detroit got a bitch born To cut bitches up From the wrist on And that’s pimp shit, when a hoe will kill Lube up with the blood to spill Can a crew fuck? Yup, do tell Ain’t no dirt she don’t do well And they love the way she do it Fuckin' with lighter fluid Bitch fire and oh she knew it Got that brain gonna make you stupid Then right when you gonna bust Take them vice grips to your nuts Crack them off from the wall to the window gon' be splattered with your goddamn guts In the sky like what God we trust Kill for the money and kill for the lust Kill or be a killer Fucker merely be a driller Fuckin' chill upon the billy with the bodies in the cut Yup Bag it, tag it, rub it down Ratchet, hatchet, cut it, drown A motherfucker till he make no sound Any true king gon' murder for the crown
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