| Lyrics: | All I hear is gun shots. Can I touch something?
What the blood claat! Niggaz want tical
make it happen.
You know my fuckin' style fuck the rappin'
We can take it back to
eighty five if you wanna START actin' like you live
It's all good. I'm rollin' with my
clique
Owls Packwoods & Phillies smokin' sess blunts mixed with illy
Got me
bustin' now the whole world looks dusted
I'm in the area with the skill that never rusted.
For real, nigga, touch it & you burn, when will motherfuckers learn
What be
spreadin' like a germ? Ha ha, it's Meth, word.
I be that early bird that got the worm & if
you check it
I'm on point, like a fax machine you get the message.
It be no question
& them bust the second guessin's,
Keep your thoughts on your lessons. What the blood claat!
To tell the truth, you don't amaze me. Killa Hill project,
A Star Trek phaser
couldn't phase me. What,
Check the Raderuckus FUCK this,
Smoke a Dutchmaster, have
'em screamin' for the duchess
Yeah, I gotta have it, so I strive to stick my piece
If I don't do it for mydelf, I'm a do it for Kase,
'Cause that's my peoples, I'm giving you
injections that be Lethal
Weapon, when niggaz start the half steppin',
Then I get
evil. But don't let that negative vibe right there
Mislead you, I'm humble, a fucking Killer
Bee,
Far from bumble. I sting you BZT and I bring you
Thirty-six chambers of head
banger, bitch,
Why I deal with? I think the mic is on the fritz.
Faggot soundmen!
They be sabotagin' shit!
Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane...
Methical,
let the whole world know my fuckin' name.
What the blood claat |
