
Freestyle N°4 Necro (Ft. ILL BILL)
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Freestyle N°4" от Necro (Ft. ILL BILL). Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.

Intro (Necro):
Sick
Psycho+Logical, Street Villians Volume 1
Brand new shit
ILL BILL and Necro!
Check it out
Brand new, exclusive shit
Pay attention
Verse 1 (ILL BILL):
The music business is morons, faggots, and idiots
Flamers like Branch Dividians
Pussys bleeding through pants from periods
We're street villians just another word for goons
Big black gats and braincells burned from shrooms
The future speaks now or forever hold your heat close
Meet ho's with pretty faces and deep throats
Blow a load, leave 'em alone, I sell 'em some blow
And when they ask me for free coke, I'm telling 'em "no"
Telling your story walkin, banging in your Sony Walkman
Catch me walking with porno bitches often
The swordsman
Circle Of Tyrants, the gore-met of violence
At your position
Wilding like Howie on a ten year mission
My music for scumbags, murderers and mobsters
Violent monsters, cop killers, live in concert
So much weed
Call us to joint the chiefs of staff
Creeps with masks
Murder you for no reason, fag
Sick
Psycho+Logical, Street Villians Volume 1
Brand new shit
ILL BILL and Necro!
Check it out
Brand new, exclusive shit
Pay attention
Verse 1 (ILL BILL):
The music business is morons, faggots, and idiots
Flamers like Branch Dividians
Pussys bleeding through pants from periods
We're street villians just another word for goons
Big black gats and braincells burned from shrooms
The future speaks now or forever hold your heat close
Meet ho's with pretty faces and deep throats
Blow a load, leave 'em alone, I sell 'em some blow
And when they ask me for free coke, I'm telling 'em "no"
Telling your story walkin, banging in your Sony Walkman
Catch me walking with porno bitches often
The swordsman
Circle Of Tyrants, the gore-met of violence
At your position
Wilding like Howie on a ten year mission
My music for scumbags, murderers and mobsters
Violent monsters, cop killers, live in concert
So much weed
Call us to joint the chiefs of staff
Creeps with masks
Murder you for no reason, fag
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