El Pistolero

Yeah
Do-do-do-do, do-do-do-do
Do-do-do-do-do-do (oh my God, RONNY)
Yeah, part two

Día de la muerte
Day of the Dead, my eyes seein' red
Órale, I hope my enemies ready
I'm takin' machetes up out of the shed
TRXs and the motorcycles
With them double Xs on the back of the vest
And I'm puttin' hexes
So I block the blessin's of the ones that's living
So their soul never rest (whoo)

Welcome to Hotel Diablo (ay)
In this building, I'm the honcho (yeah)
Smokin' inside, rollin' weed in the front
Dro drippin' heavy, wear a poncho
Check the location, we sit in the realm
Between Heaven and Hell, where the freaks'll come out at night
There is no room for the Devil, my doors like the wings on an angel
They know I'm rolling with Christ (brr)

Adlib got a double meaning
That's a money counter, that's a body counter (paw-paw)
Fat lip got a double meaning
That's a first rider and a pussy pounder
Anything can happen here
It look like a pharmacy in the cabinets here (ooh)
Skulls on the chandelier
I bring the demons from Cleveland with me like a cavalier

Call up the riders, they come out the horizon
Like the solar in the desert like Furiosa
From the middle of a map like Minnesota
But it's double-O like when I'm pouring soda
Only it's Ohio
Got a million soldiers that'll go up for me like a roller coaster
Give a fuck about gettin' older
If it's war put the door on the casket to give them closure (boom)

Tell all my competition that I don't love 'em
I invite 'em over to kill 'em again
Tell all the bitches that didn't have faith
This is revelations, they gon' pay for they sins
What is the limit? The digits keep stackin'
And stackin' and stackin', and shit never ends
This ain't the sequel, it's really the origin
I'ma take you back to where it begins

(Okay) I shoot dice and on sight, yeah
(Okay) double down, do it twice, bah
(Okay) say your prayers, Jesus Christ, ah
(Okay) EST, that's for life (that's for life)

I'm tellin' y'all, man
Será mejor que tenga cuidado con el pistolero
Porque esto e' lo que va a pasar siempre

Legend has it, I was in my mama's stomach rappin'
When they did an ultrasound and saw the cameras (whoo)
Theory is somebody from another planet took her captive
When she was pregnant and she don't know what happened (whoo)
I got different blood in me, the toxicity high
But it ain't from different drugs in me (uh, woo)
Hanging out the roof like I'm bulletproof, they send a shot
But it's impossible to put the slugs in me

Never been a typical individual
I was always a little cynical, my condition was clinical
Had a friend that was fictional that knew I was convincible
If I listened, I would grow to be a criminal (yeah)
All I wanted was to be mythical
I was already invisible, I need to be invincible
Sick of getting beat up in intervals in middle school
I picked a pen up like a weapon and made all my killers printable (yeah)

Every individual that's ever been critical
I got a list, I'm making it visual
I'm admitting I'm a pathological serial killer
Formidable in the untraditional ways to get rid of you (yeah)
Fuck being analytical, I'm unpredictable
Asymmetrical, no one matching my syllables
I committed lyrical homicide, you decide who survived
Because I'm the only one alive telling you (bitch)

These the type of raps that you can't reenact with AI (bitch)
I see people mad that I can cross over like AI (bitch)
I can do rap for country or punk
Or say, "Fuck it," do nu-metal (bitch)
I don't worship the Devil
That's just what they say when you get on this level (yeah)



Credits
Writer(s): Colson Baker, Ronald Spencer
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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