Killafornia (feat. B-Real)

This is Killafornia, home of the killas
Killafornia, home of the killas
Smoke clears, only one winner
Killafornia, home of the killas

So many dreams that I'm chasing
So many fuckers are hating
Somebody show me you hate me
Show me your dog 'cause I'm waiting

Throw me a bowl I'll be bakin'
Only so much that I'm takin'
Handing your privates to Lincoln
Misunderstood and complacent

You wanna stand for what medal
That ain't no medal of honor
You want to strike like a general
But you end up a goner

Bringing a donor to honor
It's only fair that I warn ya
That I'm a killa from California
Waiting for action and drama

If you want it we got it
From prostitutes to narcotics
Have you empty your pockets
I'm fucking pro with the product

There ain't no way you can stop it
I just suggest that you drop it
These fuckers making me cock it
'Cause they mistakingly mock it

I leave 'em blazed and baffled
Like when they cut me with scalpels
Never trying to be grappled
That's why I aim for the apple

From the hood to the castle
I'm still considered an asshole
Grand prize of the raffle
Napalm and shrapnel

This is Killafornia, home of the killas
Killafornia, home of the killas
Smoke clears, only one winner
Killafornia, home of the killas

Got the dreamers and schemers
And the ballas with beamers
So many leeches beneath us
And they wishing they heed us

You'll salute like a fetus
You can never defeat us
Bring all your heaters to heat us
When you attempt to defeat us

You be try to imagine what happens
When you impart with some garbage
Everything in life is so tragic
No matter who is the hardest

No matter who your god is
I'm telling you fuckers regardless
Don? t even get me started
I can be so retarded

It's like a blessing from Satan
The world is mine for the taking
Bent over model of makin'
And yet still I'm a shake 'em

We take the name that we breakin'
Any rules that you makin'
Ain't nothing pertaining
I turn a pig into bacon

I'll save my aim for the fuzz
And always make with the glove
Down to spray up the club
And let 'em say who it was

Bitch, I'm a failure at love
Unless you cater to thugs
You can mess me with hugs
I'll fuckin' kiss you with slugs

This is Killafornia, home of the killas
Killafornia, home of the killas
Smoke clears, only one winner
Killafornia, home of the killas

This is Killafornia, home of the killas
Killafornia, home of the killas
Smoke clears, only one winner
Killafornia, home of the killas



Credits
Writer(s): Louis M. Freeze, Travis L. Barker, Timothy Armstrong, Rob Aston
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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