Masta Killa

Masta Killa - East M.C's lyrics

Your rating:

[Intro: Masta Killa] 

Uh, uh, uh, uhhhhhhhhhh! uh uh 

Ya'll motherfuckers 

Ya'll motherfuckers 

Ya'll motherfuckers, Ya'll motherfuckers, don't uh 

uh, uh, uh, uhhhhhhhhhh! 

Ya'll motherfuckers, Ya'll motherfuckers, don't uh 



[Masta Killa:] 

Listen all Gangsta and Fellow MC's we now meet 

The Threat is now a actual fact and that's the lease 

The Lion Pore rippin' your Jaw dismantle face piece 

You made out the Herd the scene 

My Murder One Team, Something's best untold 

Crime Related - I am who I am so fuck it if son stuck it 

We all later paid the best - sipped the fine Grapes 

My Rugged Lifestyle is survived - I don't Apologize 

Hustlers devote I chose, there's no Compromisin' 

And the Guns is drawn, shots fired 

Son, all my killers is fam, non-hired 

Ya'll faggot niggaz wait for the sound for the things blast 

Wait for the Train to past, Man face down 

we straight from the Murder Capitol Town 

It goes down - Daily on the regular 

Dressed in Assassin attire, the bullet proof rep 

Strap 'em wit the Bomb to his body, ain't no comin' back 



[Victorious:] 

Yea, yo these dudes out here ain't fightin' no more 

You either dump or run, or go to the law 

Me ? - I take it to the furthest son, it's Murder One 

Maneuver ruegers, I call 'em Ferguson 

You forced my hand to take you off the Earth wit Guns 

Justify Homicide that burden is done 

I drink that Red one straight out the forces, your boy lost it 

I'm on the belt park where the Ratchet I toss quick 

I'm Boss Bitch from that East New York 

Where that cheap talk get you outlined in Chalk 

Step out of line, we put your thoughts on the Sidewalk 

You popped your top lock like we popped the Corks 

You can catch me in the South on approach wit them Choppers 

Or Bring out them Helicopters 

Your boy gun dame is hella proper 



[K.Born:] 

Yea, soul Mass photo flash burned hot 

Comin' for the kill, faggot niggaz head gets chopped 

And get rolled from blocks and gets slapped out spots 

We in N.Y. keepin' live Brooklyn lick off shots 

Make 'em duck talk, roll real slow don't stop 

Til they get it and flock, See I aim for top 

And Why ? don't ask why, just move wit my flow blow so-so 

Watch how careers gets stopped 

My Pop spend the seedin' I swam scream, strongest and broke through 

Raised by to a General - Physical is holdin' weight 

And leadin' the way like a Freight Train 

But I jump fast, nigga you here ? You Sure ? 

Ain't no horse play, don't play 

Murder wit my Minds spray 

Give y'all fools lessons of war, no more 

From every Land on this Planet Earth 

And waters all across, truly yours, the Flames, the Force 



[Free Murder:] 

The Name's F.R.E.E. M.U.R.D.A. 

My nigga A, the name is Free Murda 

Killings is no limit even without C-Murder 

We takin' Keith Burners, we don't give it back 

It's like the Blocks slow it's hard to get rid of that 

Kinda mad wishin' he should of had bigger Gat 

Not this little shit could fit in my Fitted Cap 

Matter of fact give 'em that, Make 'em do somethin' 

But really though yo he ain't gon' do nuttin' 

Bangin' me, I popped your bitch and now she shot up 

The Name is Free and that's the opposite of locked up 

I have you wacked up, they call the Cops up 

You need a house worker had that blood moped up 

Yea I'm like WHAT ? wit my Glock up 

I'm a nut like the shit I get off Cocks up 

I just popped up and already done wit you 

Should of bring your Pops, the way I been sunnin' you 

Came wit your thing, you can't fight you'se a lame nigga 

Under the wing like lights on the Plane Nigga 



[Killa Sin:] 

Yo, fuck all the small talkin' 

Get on your job or get the walkin' 

Major League Batters in here, you steady barkin' 

The Mac more catch like Dogs that botched Abortion 

My-Blood pour like bottles of bub 

You popped the Corks on the walls on 

Better believe I get my Stalk on 

+Artist of The Year+ toured for long 

BONG! when it's all said and done I be long gone 

Hong Kong gettin' my Cock in twat thru my Long Johns 

Same song all around the World like 'Pac did it 

Caught a lil half a hundred gram wit the Cop wit it 

The Grass that I stashed in the Dash, hit the Block wit it 

They glocked out and brought along for the Vibe got knocked wit it 

Now I'm on top tradin' bars from a box niggaz 

Wit Two Strikes against me ain't no waitin' for the Third 

Even the Cops get it, got niggaz watchin' they Misses 

Doin' a middle harm Lakes cocked in the Air 

Screamin' "Yeah" like Lil John 

should of pawn like Carm styles is on potty train 

Shotty's bang, bodies slained, got niggaz that could get it on
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found