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Slang Killaz - 9th Prince
Hmm oooh ooh
Killa Beez Killarmy
Eh-yo Eh-yo Eh-yo
A Soviet deep in Paris Playboy rabbits want carrots
Luxury marriage 9th ain't havin it
I keep the forty-five automatic like Mathematics
Start terminatin savages I'm raw like 'caine to easy addicts
Street tactics million dollar caskets
On biblical war perform Michael Jackson Thriller but way iller
A slave killer protected by Shaolin and Brooklyn Zu guerillas
Under my pillow I sleep with grenades untraceable heaters
Lay deeper than scientific readers
Lay deeper than scientific readers
My cipher sounds will ding pound I blast you on ya nightgown
Kidnap ya child might give him to the crowd
On my way Uptown in my '95 Millenium
Seen Killa Sin and 'em let niggas sound feminine
Remember 9th Prince ill forever I get up in 'em
My style is like runnin' up in small town banks
Bulletproof tanks never bust blanks
Always suffer with shank
Aiyo aiyo once again
We stingin' y'all mothaf**kas cuz I don't give a flyin' f**k
About none of y'all niggas out here
Cuz if you ain't none of my mothaf**kin' Killarmy comrades
F**k y'all
Yo check the topic to this essay
It's murder in the first ese
As I bust a slug through yo' fragile statue
And that's actual precise timed and on point like a marksman
Four-four rubber grip Summer of Sam specialist so take this
Four-hunded grain thought that'll pierce ya cranium
From the rear I don't give a f**k this is my year
I'm takin this rap sh*t back from the wack
F**k who you are kid f**k where you representin at
Cuz basically my mentality is on some '93 sh*t
When you had to Protect Ya Neck in this sh*t
To be an MC now it's al about the tight clothes
Crossed over flows platinum jewelery to get a plaque in the industry
But never the I-S-L-to the O-R-D
I keep my sh*t muddy like my Timbs be you fake a** MC's
Killa Beez Killarmy
Killa Beez we will sting you
Aiyo Terrorist
I'm on the block like any man
The difference between me and you is I understand
You askin' questions "What's that sh*t up in my hand "
Answer your questions I fire that sh*t up in ya pan
B**ch ni**a understand I'm the P-R-T era is this
His lyrics are unique and his vocals are crisp
Bang that sh*t in ya Jeeps or on ya block with the fifth
So front on his kid front on this
'Til I could let this sh*t that's in my hand light up my wrist
And let this sh*t descend in like E-V ya chest
I'm far from the best I'm more like the worst you ever seen
Spit green phlegm from blood same color as my jeans
And my boots'll be brown get up the street's down
Let the beat hound cuz beef pound 'round the block
This is hip-hop niggas f**ked around and went pop
Killa Beez Killarmy
Killa Beez Killarmy
Killa Beez Killarmy
Killa Beez we will sting you
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