Lyrics:
where them Rollie's at
You know they say time could fly
Got killers when It's time to ride, you think I'm not kind of guy
Wondering how I get by when I
Let's have a ballon party
Bring 'em in by the twos darling
Psychedelic my shroom garden
I surf the wave like who's gnarly
Blow it up yeah yea blow it
I ain't impressed by a killer
I'm impressed by a hustler who's taking care his mother and his brother
And his significant other
Put his niggas in
to no good the whole world would ask us
And when the girls would walk by we would try to catch their eye
And if they didn't show face we would act
This year, we iller than a nun in a cumshot
Gettin’ double penetrated in a dope spot
By two hard pipe hittin’ niggas
On the orders of Marcellus
the back like a crook in the black of the bushes
With the rats, the axe, and the stacks of wood is
By the garage, the Mirage tracks the shadow
My weapon is
Jumping in the streets, the map, not the actual streets.
The perfect easter activity, that no other beats.
Whatch out for Killer2000, as he's
I'm alright
I live my life one day at a time
"What could go wrong"
That question weighs on my mind
Anxiety creeps like a killer in the night
Might
a hundred feet
And watch me cause my pockets is getting deep
When I sleep
I try to count dollars instead a sheep
Rare pressure applied just off the reflex
I
lead my fleet
A pioneer diamond wear
Your hoe is here admiring
You heard it right
My type is rare, yo
Stout fly nigga stage killer
Fresh fitted cold
Know my name, I'm divorcing
I know yours is important, you're important
But more than started, you're rare and domestic and deported
I'm about to be
gay
Diggin holes like a mole punchin
In good scammin cards
Like a rare keep it all in a safe
Looking like yu-gi-oh
Grabbin all these cards
Got the nerds
early,
I hate MCs that get away with swag lines like:
I'm a killer and no one can hurt me
When I die don't bury me, freeze me,
By the way things are goin'
In today's music news: the ever controversial Tupac Shakur has
Just released another album under the alias Makaveli.
Music insiders are running wild
You're fucked, little friend, a voice in your head
Looks who appeared
A killer with beard
So patchy reminds me of albums you did
A grand puppeteer
Nie byłem gotów żeby wydać album byłem szaleńcze gotowy
Przygotowany za dwóch by stać się najlepszym jak do tej pory
Wciąż jestem głodny sukcesu
realest got turned into killers
Cause they be defending 'gainst niggas who tripping
So, I stay to myself but that shit do not help
Cause sometimes, it's
on killer mode,
My date nights are on thriller mode,
Rappers' album’s filler mode,
A Silverback Gorilla in Atilla mode,
I don’t need the Gram,
To tell me who
And when I see you I'ma take what I want
So, you tried to front, hope ya (got yo'self a gun)
You ain't real, hope ya (got yo'self a gun)
My, first album
mother fucker's ain't showing Tech Nina no love
[Verse 1]
Fuck Muh-Fuckers, buck Muh-Fuckers
And the pain come nigga with a bang, I'ma killer, better
Manson, I'm a muthafuckin' thriller
Friday 13th's my birthday, so I was a born killer
Brought up as a trouble kid, devious shit's what I shoulda did
Mom
[Verse 1]
My, first album had no famous guest appearances
The outcome: I'm crowned the best lyricist
Many years on this professional level
Why would
Freeing the damned by being free as I am
And speaking belief into people sittin' with reason to stand
Who just might be needing a hand
I got you
9th
(you know what I'm sayin', right is right, wrong is wrong, you know?)
(Know what I'm sayin'? We go by the code) oh-oh, oh-oh
(Tell my brothers I love
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