[Killer Mike]
Bitch, we be that shit, that's right
Number two, boo-boo, straight caca (Yeah)
I smoke ganja with a dreadlocked rasta
Move like Frank, you will die like a hassa
Move like Jesus, die like a martyr
Hell of a choice when you're riding on the MARTA
Trying to get some hoes in the hot car
How far is we away, man? Not far
The greatness they claim, not all
Are not, we are those juggernauts
Me El, we hail
Like a young Che Guevara and Fidel
Castro, cash flow, car full of females
Bad hoes, we in the DR
Any fuck rapper boy gettin' out of line
I pray the preacher beat him to the goddamn ER (ER, ER, ER)
I spit them country rap tunes like Hee-Haw
Cocaine flow, fish scale, no re-rock
Take a snort for yourself, shawty, see
"He raw... (sniff) See, he raw!"
That’s you, shawty, go on, snort your nose off
Then put the news in the street, Tom Brokaw
'Cause of you, shawty met a bad snow bitch out of Brooklyn
And that Brooklyn bitch straight got broke off
Yeah, she called her homegirl from the BX
Freaky lil 'Rican brought X and we sexed
Couple months later, brought 'em down to Atlanta
And let 'em style on the 'bamas, that's right, yeah, we flex
Heard she got a baby daddy and a nigga acting aggy
Runnin' 'round talkin' 'bout yeah, he plexed
Nigga better pray for a ho like he Tebow though
'Cause right now, he stay losin’ like the Jets
[El-P]
And I walk around like I got a 36" chain
And I walk around like I got a 36" chain
[El-P]
Bitch, we be that shit, that's right
Light a flare, put your thumbs in the air, high five
I came for the stash box, gimme that
I been waitin' for this all my life
3:00am and I'm still not right
Still awake, still away from fading
Crazy, Psilocybin why the ride so hazy
Dribble this spit till the street gets wavy
The bliss and pure shit magician, get to skipping
Not too tall dark and handsome, man
But I talk dark for ransoms, man
Spend grands of those zombies, folded origami
Yes, I bag the clams
Anyone object to the styles, get a smile and a backwards hand
(Backwards hand, backwards)
Peep that, venomous face in the place of an angel
Bringing that buckshot back to the table
Been a veteran, earthbound hellion
Try to say grace, get a face full of staples
Woke up and the city air smelled like maple
If you come straight from New York, you relate
If you come straight from another place, stay tuned
Me and Mike got the whole map held safe
[Killer Mike]
Be it NYC or the ATL
From the ceilings of heaven to the gates of hell
We murder death, killed every stage we step
Homicide times two, better warn yourself, El
[El-P]
Anybody looking for some trouble better self-med
We could double dutch in a minefield, hell gets
Just the right temperature, break beat minister
Riverdance cleats on your face for the finisher
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
