Firing Squad
Firing Squad!
I am Crip or Blood, I'm a contradiction right?
I'm a blood cousin, I'm super Kryptonite
Listen, I switch it, I let the punishment fit the crime like
I blew this bitch mind, left cause she ain't blew my mind right
The COB Don Dada, it's not one hotter
I get mo', nigga's torch it like I'm Guantana'
I'm Pac and BIG Poppa cause I pack a big poppa
Shotgun drop ya', Nirvana your momma's Oblongata
It never occured to ya', even bitches get murked
And it's even worse when it's 1st degree leaving them 3rd degree burn on her
Next I'm raping her corpse after I murder her
Necrophilia bitch, you fucking with a murderer
I'm dicking 2 sluts, cause I'm giving 2 fucks
Who but the Shoes, we wrecks, the new Chucks
Chew'd up ya' crews, with Techs, we gooned up
Cross fire ya' front yard like I'm the Ku Klux
Hey yo, my 16s baffle
My shit is art, way over your head like the Sistine Chapel
Over your head like a hat, I got that Kangol flow
I got that go where you can't go flow
The thoughts I formulate is psycho
I [?] Norman Bates
Can't wrap your brain around the raps I say
Perhaps you may be able to wrap your brain around my full metal jacket
Make your brain hug my slugs, give my shots a warm embrace
My circle move through the street, kind of like a tire
Dressed to kill, wearing steel, kind of like attire
I kind of like to tie you up with dynamite
Make you spit a rhyme with 1 line like when i ignite the fire
I'm a sly conniver, homocide designer, a spitter with cyanide saliva
Nigga I'm a rhyme insider
I'm a rhyme messiah, give me a mic and nigga I go in
I wouldn't lighten up if I had a vitiligo
If I had a heart, it would have to be defrosted
If I had a mind, I would give you weak niggas a piece of it but I lost it
I'm often on one more than often not, often on so bums approach with caution
My tech is destined to clap the chest of a cat
Who's quest is to try to test the best left of the map
Take a rope and tie it around the neck of a cat
Leave him hanging like rejecting a dap
I'm a fucking beast
I'll backhand your granny then uppercut your niece
Bust [?] a seed and then go fuck your slut to sleep
I'm actually past nasty, mad crafty
I spaz on tracks and I'm strapped, I'm clap happy
A live wire, choke you out with barbwire
A boss, you'll get laid out not off when I fire
This the COB and we warrin'
I'll have you [?????????]
I'm stuck in my ways, I'm hard headed
Like I'm finna fuck, freaking a slut is the only time I give a fuck
Gripping a snub, squeezing the bust, the only buck I give a slut
Sieg is AIDS infested semen, I'm the sickest nut
I'm erection hard, I'm like the stinging pain, you guessed it smart?????????????? when my session starts
Best in my profession, yes I perfected the wrecking art
Punch your chest so hard, your posture will look like a question mark
My bullets'll eject and make you step back as if you rejected
And send your clique a message like we textin'
Cause I don't think you really know what you up against
Like a one night stand, you don't know who you're fuckin' with
Now your heart's like a Rolex hands, it ain't ticking
I keep iron on me like I'm on some weight bench shit
And I lift it everyday like I'm after great fitness
I'm on some other shit, some other shit I raise biscuits
Firing Squad!
I am Crip or Blood, I'm a contradiction right?
I'm a blood cousin, I'm super Kryptonite
Listen, I switch it, I let the punishment fit the crime like
I blew this bitch mind, left cause she ain't blew my mind right
The COB Don Dada, it's not one hotter
I get mo', nigga's torch it like I'm Guantana'
I'm Pac and BIG Poppa cause I pack a big poppa
Shotgun drop ya', Nirvana your momma's Oblongata
It never occured to ya', even bitches get murked
And it's even worse when it's 1st degree leaving them 3rd degree burn on her
Next I'm raping her corpse after I murder her
Necrophilia bitch, you fucking with a murderer
I'm dicking 2 sluts, cause I'm giving 2 fucks
Who but the Shoes, we wrecks, the new Chucks
Chew'd up ya' crews, with Techs, we gooned up
Cross fire ya' front yard like I'm the Ku Klux
Hey yo, my 16s baffle
My shit is art, way over your head like the Sistine Chapel
Over your head like a hat, I got that Kangol flow
I got that go where you can't go flow
The thoughts I formulate is psycho
I [?] Norman Bates
Can't wrap your brain around the raps I say
Perhaps you may be able to wrap your brain around my full metal jacket
Make your brain hug my slugs, give my shots a warm embrace
My circle move through the street, kind of like a tire
Dressed to kill, wearing steel, kind of like attire
I kind of like to tie you up with dynamite
Make you spit a rhyme with 1 line like when i ignite the fire
I'm a sly conniver, homocide designer, a spitter with cyanide saliva
Nigga I'm a rhyme insider
I'm a rhyme messiah, give me a mic and nigga I go in
I wouldn't lighten up if I had a vitiligo
If I had a heart, it would have to be defrosted
If I had a mind, I would give you weak niggas a piece of it but I lost it
I'm often on one more than often not, often on so bums approach with caution
My tech is destined to clap the chest of a cat
Who's quest is to try to test the best left of the map
Take a rope and tie it around the neck of a cat
Leave him hanging like rejecting a dap
I'm a fucking beast
I'll backhand your granny then uppercut your niece
Bust [?] a seed and then go fuck your slut to sleep
I'm actually past nasty, mad crafty
I spaz on tracks and I'm strapped, I'm clap happy
A live wire, choke you out with barbwire
A boss, you'll get laid out not off when I fire
This the COB and we warrin'
I'll have you [?????????]
I'm stuck in my ways, I'm hard headed
Like I'm finna fuck, freaking a slut is the only time I give a fuck
Gripping a snub, squeezing the bust, the only buck I give a slut
Sieg is AIDS infested semen, I'm the sickest nut
I'm erection hard, I'm like the stinging pain, you guessed it smart?????????????? when my session starts
Best in my profession, yes I perfected the wrecking art
Punch your chest so hard, your posture will look like a question mark
My bullets'll eject and make you step back as if you rejected
And send your clique a message like we textin'
Cause I don't think you really know what you up against
Like a one night stand, you don't know who you're fuckin' with
Now your heart's like a Rolex hands, it ain't ticking
I keep iron on me like I'm on some weight bench shit
And I lift it everyday like I'm after great fitness
I'm on some other shit, some other shit I raise biscuits
Firing Squad!
Credits
Writer(s): Unknown Writer, Demetrius Antron Wickliffe, Andrew Wheat, Keith Richard Wickliffe, Lovewin Julius Wickliffe
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.