[Intro: Killer Mike]
I'm a rider and provider and I don't tolerate ho shit
I Bun B out on emcees meaning I obliterate yo' shit
Man, every time I try to like a rapper they turn and do ho shit
Make me ski mask on they a-a-ass, run they jewels and mo shit
[Verse 1: El-P]
You looking at the guy who the guy that you think that I got my style from got his own style from ('sup?)
I came with a sly wink and a shit grin with a pimp limp and a foul tongue
I'm a Brooklyn son, set adrift in a chemtrail sky
Bad guys knock when the doors are locked, I got no shots left, better prep for God
Not long, He'll be talkin the same shit, I am just impossible
Got a right to be hostile, motherfucker life is a coffin, layin' down in it ain’t awesome
Every single moment you spend in the dirt is a worse time than the last moment, own it
We all know you don't know shit (no shit!)
Me and Mike will straight write your obit
[Verse 2: Killer Mike]
And the obit goes like this: "Here lies a punk bitch, real fuck boy type
Who never want shit, 'bout as soft as his momma's own tit"
And sensitive as his old lady's clit, real bust-out bitch
She fuck my clique, obscene, absurd with the words
I cleaned up curbs with the blood and the bones of you nerds
I kill with the mic and murder with words
I'm known on the corners where murders occur, I cruise in the verse where murderers lurk
When god in the building, who they gonna hurt
I'm a rider and provider and I don't tolerate ho shit
I Bun B out on emcees meaning I obliterate yo' shit
Man, every time I try to like a rapper they turn and do ho shit
Make me ski mask on they a-a-ass, run they jewels and mo shit
[Verse 1: El-P]
You looking at the guy who the guy that you think that I got my style from got his own style from ('sup?)
I came with a sly wink and a shit grin with a pimp limp and a foul tongue
I'm a Brooklyn son, set adrift in a chemtrail sky
Bad guys knock when the doors are locked, I got no shots left, better prep for God
Not long, He'll be talkin the same shit, I am just impossible
Got a right to be hostile, motherfucker life is a coffin, layin' down in it ain’t awesome
Every single moment you spend in the dirt is a worse time than the last moment, own it
We all know you don't know shit (no shit!)
Me and Mike will straight write your obit
[Verse 2: Killer Mike]
And the obit goes like this: "Here lies a punk bitch, real fuck boy type
Who never want shit, 'bout as soft as his momma's own tit"
And sensitive as his old lady's clit, real bust-out bitch
She fuck my clique, obscene, absurd with the words
I cleaned up curbs with the blood and the bones of you nerds
I kill with the mic and murder with words
I'm known on the corners where murders occur, I cruise in the verse where murderers lurk
When god in the building, who they gonna hurt
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!