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Adit - Killa Math Lyrics

KILLA MATH LyricsWith my kinfolk off of Light Street and them niggas off of Nine
Drunk as fuck, when I get buck I′m clingin' to my .38
Ringin′ out some shots, straight to your dome, if you gon' player hate
Builded for war, then jump off, got a sawed off pointed at the door
Soon as you come in, I'm breakin′ off some proper shit
Gun smoke foggin′ up the room, 'cause I′ma thread
I specialized in hog killin' my enemy
Deadly but maybe the hay be like keepin′ me down with my dawg
Niggas be runnin' they mouth to damn much
So I gotta kick they door, make ′em think, that I'm done knockin'
Rob ′em tho, if you didn′t know, slick with my shit
Pimpin', don′t you ever disrespect my cliquе
Just recognize, don't criticize thеse players bound for nationwide
Know you really won′t ana', you can′t handle us
We runnin' packs - you don't
Mista Playa Dre, the crooked type
So watch your back
(Lemon-Lemon) Lemonhead sucker, motherfuckers wanna test my nuts
Niggas wanna′ gizzon here for P′s, but please, blow out his guts
Bitches tryna get a name by makin' stains like they so hard
Trizzick you a hizzo, how I knizzow? Cause I pulled your card
Fuckin′ with the player-mob, killer squad up in this, bitch
Is you gizzon be my hizzo, 'cause you is up on my dick?
Killa nigga in your face, dizzog, I just caught a case
Now I live in 2-0-1, with my roadie RizzedRum
Now I′m izzout on the street
On the creep, I'm lookin′ for those
Cap peelin', no stealin', these bullets I′m dealin′
A villain is killin', be pimpin′ this ho
Buck, buck, you busters duck
Mobb deep, on the motherfuckin' creep
You lemons finna bite the dust, you bitches can not fuck with us
Dressed up like a pimp in disguise, myself, I cramp up to the house
Satan′s got me doin' evil shit, like blowin′ your brizzains out
As I cap another ho with player youngblood on my shirt
RedRum in reverse, bitch, it's a curse, that's why you in a hearse
Money and murder, the way I go by my inner streak
To much to live for, so I′ma shoot at my enemies
I can′t be caught slippin', because the nine′s on my hip and
If you think I be slippin, then try your luck, Imma shoot you trick
Debo's my name, my enter worse with my clan
I run up into your house and tie you up to a ceilin′ fan
Don't ask am I crazy, because I won′t answer shit
I just will show you, in due time, by killin' your mother, trick
I'm strapped, don′t trip, I love to see your guts spilled
On the floor, when I start shootin′ from my nine clip
Sixes on my mind, all the time and it's gettin′ thick
Cross the path of a true soldier, get your wig split
It's the killers in this motherfucker, hell yeah
Ain′t no fakin' from our heart
Killers killin′ while bitches flauge