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do not resurrect - KILLA lyrics

Artist: do not resurrect

album: KILLA


Killa, killa, killa, killa
Killa, killa, killa, killa, killa
Killa, killa, killa, killa
Killa, killa, killa, killa, killa
(AV with that drip hoe)
Runnin' round this bitch with a grip, sight, scope
Welcome to the lyrics of a real psycho
Pull up to your block, seven bullets in the Glock
Let his body fucking drop to the pits I go
When I mark you bitch, you won't laugh it off
I send a rocket, click it and you blastin' off
I'm in the black abyss
You been a bastard though
So imma wrap my fist
And then I crack your dome
I'm fuckin brutal, whatchu got buddy, headshots
I'll put a bullet in your knot buddy, red sauce
Finna show you what I got, better back off
Nigga pull up with the racks up
Hacksaw, blam some
Feelin' like I'm top ten
Flip the body, gotta hit em' with a MAC-10
Ain't nobody fuckin movin' when I rack that
Headed to the back, finna put him in a sack
Let him rot 'til he half dead
She suckin' my dick but my eyes on the road
If she make me bust, I might lose control
They talking that shit, but we tote dem poles
Feel like Usian, I'm going for gold
All of this money is coming in quick
I'm in Miami, she sending pics
I'm like god damn, I love girls who thick
She got a man, but I'm worth the risk
Bout to really run it up, I think it's time
2010 D Rose, I'm in my prime
I could never back down, I could never drop dime
So worry bout you, either way I'm gonna shine
Stone cold killa', thrilla in Manila
Bands in this bitch, yeah imma go gorillas
I been killin' killers lightly
Don't like you, no need to spite me
My ego, stay high and mighty
Dat 22-3 travel nightly
He wanna talk shit, then you can fight me, boy
We are not the same, you ain't like me, boy
Bullets the speed sound 44 clippin' and your bitch already steppin'
You don't want this noise
My oppositions, spin the block politely
Your grammar foolish, that bitch dumb unsightly
Aimin' down the pistol pole, and I'm wrecking Miley
For this trunk done pop, it ain't talkin' nicely
I'm flippin' my bricks gettin' straight to the top
I'm stackin' my breads, I ain't never gonna stop
Steppin' my way, hittin' you with da mop
If you on my stop, then you gonna get popped
I turn your block to a mission, your mom to a witness
I cock it and block out your vision
I grata-ta-ta-ta-ta niggas
Apocalypse with it (AV with that drip, hoe)
Don't barter, I pop out and get it
You product of fatherless children
I'll body you bitches
Ironic, I'm prodigal with it
Just stop it, I've had enough, huh
Got you locked in an audible prison
My sins in a wishin' well
Boutta kill all you niggas like sickle cell
Slip in like splinter cell
I can't wish him well, non-complacent
It's fuck all you fakers who pray just to make a sale
And I hope that he spin in the grave
I put ten in the face of the body then dig it up
And I'm sick of the miserable rage
But the clip in the K, so it's hard tryna' give a fuck
Let's count up the money, let's run up the racks
This bitch coming over, I hit from the back
This green got me faded, Medusa I'm stoned
I'm posted up like Karl Malone
And I hop up in the whip and that bitch so quick
If I pop another pill, imma be car sick
If I link up with your chick, imma give her good dick
If a motherfucker try me, imma go John Wick
We got the juice like some Minute Maid
Hit the opp with a bottle of Hennessy
If they still talking shit, we gon slide today
Leave a man bloody then go out and celebrate
And I think that it's time for a holiday
We got some girls and we took 'em to Paraguay
Got the whole team here so we turning up today
Really came up from the mud for some better days

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