Lyrics:
call it capital murder
I've lived through drive-bys, killers, kidnappers, robbers
Car hits, runners, coppers, robbers
All just people lookin for a bit
killing off the clout, call me the fidget killer
And brothas barely diss me cause they know I'm iller
Brothas tryna throw me all these late hits
But I'll
A killer Mc
Killing Mcs
Been on a killing spree
My rhymebook looking like a killing scene
I severed several heads with this guillotine
Killing teams
shout out to FGE
That's WunTayk, T-O-3, J Real, Jayln, and No Fatigue, yeah
Rap God, FGE shit, you already know what it is
New album on the way, May 20th
hunnid
Carti on my wrist, yeah, my Rolex super flooded
Why you fucking with the plug? All these killers cold blooded
Knocking down the three, keep
fucking filthy
You wanna kill the ghost, but you can hardly feel me
I'ma get renovations I need a bigger ceiling
When I peep the drums, I get a killer
a martyr
Dropping singles not albums like 1,2,3,4,5 tha Carter
These rhymes are sick in the head so lock me up like Jeffrey Dahmer
Tha Carter I’m talking Lil
hammer fuck a toolbox
Animal in that field, but I ain't talkin' bout no livestock
Dropped a mixtape sounded like a album but they compared it to Drizzy
cheetahs
I also saw three dudes get heartbroke by one cheater
Shit, damn, that's a cold hoe
I don't wanna buy a eight ball, I wanna whole O
And no, I ain't
fucked a killer bitch (bitch)
They ain't with us, they against us, fuck them niggas bitch (fuck 'em)
Jumpin' out the Benz truck with the cutter nigga
Bullets whistle by like voices beyond the
Grave in a dead choir
I pissed away my life for many moons
Many shitty wombs in pissy motels
Exchanging bricks
3: Mac]
I'm the bad nigga from the bricks
Blood on my kicks
Camoflauged niggas never die, we drop hits
I spit the gospel, to all of my mothafuckin
what the fuck don't nobody play
From Memphis to the Bay niggas diein' all day
Over yea shipped with coke and candy cut up into bricks
Bitches that
killers missin' a pot to piss in
His palms itchin' with dreams of executin' his vision
On a mission, watch as he grips his Glock with conviction
Can you
multitasking
We drop concepts that captivate and grab ‘em
By the time you lay one verse
We recorded a whole album
Two or three projects, man
That’s a week’s
bag or I'm gone buss yo' shit
Now I came up, a fifteen thousand dollar lick
Yeah Red Mouth, the Pastor need about a brick, and now it's on
Strictly,
the do', I start actin' so republic
I had a set, they actin' like I had a brick or more
So you got snitched on by the carni-whore
Show-Off or show ass what
on the fucking stair way to heaven
Bitch I'm harder than rocks, stone, bricks, and pebbles
Stay putting niggas in graves so i just keep me a shouvle
Nigga all
not win?
At least three of the albums that I dropped in your top ten (talk to 'em)
Your wrist "tick-tick," boy, the hand on my watch spin
Not in
but it’s looking more like 6
5 rounds with the champion the fight’s fixed
4 EPs dropping in the same year
3 Clubs a night, Henny in the same year
2 Hoes
the grooves in the space jam
They wanna be my copies
But this a telepathic paper jam
I bring the heat like Miami
Imma 3 shooter
All the broke bitches
Bitch
love it
That's why this street shit I'm surrounded by isn't nothing
They ain't really killers out here they just talk and post pictures these bout it
the wire
Can't wait for this year, signs tell me by this time, I'll have a
3.0, DA, Marching Pride, I got an album release and I'm still on the grind
Keep
a whole brick
24/7 On the clock yeah that 3 for 1
Shift
While y'all was running to the Derby, I was running through piss
That's how the stings know my name
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