Nine Lines
When it comes to killing you know that I'm the natural born
Saskatchewan axe wielding Capricorn
You can't perform because your raps suck
You're better off planting corn and getting ass fucked
I'm like a cactus thorn in your ass
Popping caps
Throwing bodies out like apple cores
I'm a warlord on the clavichord
Fucking up my opponents with my savage sword
Buying studio gear that you can't afford
I hit you over the head with a spiked 2x4 board
I'm sick of your shit
Say your prayers then you're getting your wrists slit
It's time for you to meet the lord
If you get caught slipping I'll empty my whole clip in your hip And
You'll get skinned like a chicken bock bock mother fucker
It's time for you to suck a cock mother fucker
You just get your head shot off with the glock mother fucker
This is shit that you can't stop mother fucker
Yeah you get pop pop pop
Mother fuckers get dropped dropped dropped
Yeah you get pop pop pop
Mother fuckers get dropped dropped dropped
I use to be a pilot but they took my license away
When they realized I was driving drunk night and day
I still fly planes full of cocaine down to palm springs Californ I A
Then take a trip in the impala down to the local Cabellas
To buy some gun shells for the fellows
Yeah I'm precise when I pull off the heist at the casino
My soul is colder then ice we know
I'm a poltergeist I look like an older Christ
That's how the shit roll out
Got the cash flow figured out
Clips in the pistols no doubt
Sending missiles to the people who piss me off
Hand cuff the cops and smash their faces with a bottle of Schnapps
I ain't stopping
Until everyone I hate is slain and laying in the coffin
Yeah you get pop pop pop
Mother fuckers get dropped dropped dropped
Yeah you get pop pop pop
Mother fuckers get dropped dropped dropped
That's the way it is
If you want to be a hater
Ok see you later
Saskatchewan axe wielding Capricorn
You can't perform because your raps suck
You're better off planting corn and getting ass fucked
I'm like a cactus thorn in your ass
Popping caps
Throwing bodies out like apple cores
I'm a warlord on the clavichord
Fucking up my opponents with my savage sword
Buying studio gear that you can't afford
I hit you over the head with a spiked 2x4 board
I'm sick of your shit
Say your prayers then you're getting your wrists slit
It's time for you to meet the lord
If you get caught slipping I'll empty my whole clip in your hip And
You'll get skinned like a chicken bock bock mother fucker
It's time for you to suck a cock mother fucker
You just get your head shot off with the glock mother fucker
This is shit that you can't stop mother fucker
Yeah you get pop pop pop
Mother fuckers get dropped dropped dropped
Yeah you get pop pop pop
Mother fuckers get dropped dropped dropped
I use to be a pilot but they took my license away
When they realized I was driving drunk night and day
I still fly planes full of cocaine down to palm springs Californ I A
Then take a trip in the impala down to the local Cabellas
To buy some gun shells for the fellows
Yeah I'm precise when I pull off the heist at the casino
My soul is colder then ice we know
I'm a poltergeist I look like an older Christ
That's how the shit roll out
Got the cash flow figured out
Clips in the pistols no doubt
Sending missiles to the people who piss me off
Hand cuff the cops and smash their faces with a bottle of Schnapps
I ain't stopping
Until everyone I hate is slain and laying in the coffin
Yeah you get pop pop pop
Mother fuckers get dropped dropped dropped
Yeah you get pop pop pop
Mother fuckers get dropped dropped dropped
That's the way it is
If you want to be a hater
Ok see you later
Credits
Writer(s): Tony Reddekopp
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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