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Mercenaries - Martyr lyrics

Artist: Mercenaries

album: Martyr


I don't care, a little about you
I don't like, a single thing about you
I don't care, a little about you
I don't like, a single thing about you
Knock knock it's the mercs better open up the door
When we step into the party, weapons shake you to the core
Best bet you ain't existin anymore
When I pull the trigger splatter brains all up on the floor
I do not give no fucks about the rap game
Or bout some damn fame, a matter of fact
Don't you think we can't tell that all of you artists
Spew all of your content right out of your ass?
Sold my halo for some crack bitch
Mercenaries in the trenches better watch your back bitch
Tear the branches off yo family tree
You a fan of me just to get the bands off me
Rip the helping hand right off the body
Crash the lambo
Man down man down
Airstrike inbound
Think we get around now
You an imitation infiltration on your garrison
We tear em up and now they headless tryna find the rest
I don't care, a little about you
I don't like, a single thing about you
I don't care, a little about you
I don't like, a single thing about you
Pour one
Fucking wit a 40 and a short gun
Shorty wanna fuck wit me
I'd order me a short cut
Swervin in the fast lane
Boy you need a lug nut
Rolling off the track while we lapping like your girl does
Backpack, cap about his crack
He ain't have none
Black jack pull his card homie never had one
Doused up flames fuck around and burn his house up
Stuffing up chems like a hog when it ground up
Mercenaries on the track, we be pot hole speeding
We ain't worried bout your gang bitch your not so even
You a walking fucking fail you is not sum demon
Little pussy looking frail fucking snot nosed cretin
If we pull up then we shoot back corny looking boombap
When you drop a track everyone ask why you do that?
Pull up with a new gat
Fumes come out the crew gas
Intoxicate the weather pull a weapon and defuse that
Ima pull up with my gang and then run this shit
I think I will rob a bank and store my win
Need to hide my face you cant see me bitch
Always first place, yeah watch us win
Pulling up in khaki jeans, fully colored army jeeps
Fully tuned up to the max - we even got massage seats
Body armor on my knees, balaclava on my mien
Watch us pull up all the way from Kazakhstan to Mozambique
Call it inspiration I call it copy this, copy that
Save all your muddy beats on floppy disks you copycat
Maybe you can tell me where your motherfucking bodies at
Take a look around your house I cant find no fucking body bags
I don't care, a little about you
I don't like, a single thing about you
Yea ill be a 67 aged trap god
My poweress to strong thru the analog
I dont how to be myself thru a grape vine
So ill act like yo daddy give me out a great time
Seems like to me that you never got the paper
Boo,hoo little manny salty like a caper
Knowin why you're never sober call u Mr. Chief Keef
Soundcloud fighting aliens, master cheif
Race to the top like a boomer off skooma, I
Never just panic I stick in my puma's
Now yoooou know yooooou know
Its never a false break
Ok the benz is white
Bitch is lookin nice
I got money on my mind
And it keep me up at night
Ayo that beat is tight
Produced kaiser am I right?
Ay my homie droppin fire
You producers look like dykes
So we pull and we fuck shit up
Mercenaries next up
You pull up- and nothing slut
You dont hit no headshot
We pull up
And you gon duck
Nothing than a beta cuck
You pull up
And get wet up
Keep barking little dog
Ak
One tap
Fuck shit up since blackcash
Mercenaries in this bitch
Your gang is talking mad trash
Pull up with a rifle and and im aiming for your head bow
They be hating on this gang your girlfriend is my fan now
Your girl friend is my fan
She fucks the gang
She grabs my hand

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