Cam'ron

Cam'ron - Killa Season songtekst

Je score:

[DukeDaGod] 

Before we get into this Killa Season 

Let's start this shit off with my man 40 Cal 



[40 Cal.] 

Who am I? 40 Cal. motherfucker 

Gat to your back, get down motherfucker 

Clown motherfucker 

(You will be wonderin what are we gonna do now) 

Let me try to explain 

I shoot his truck up just to drive him insane 

Give his Rover the new name, the firing range 

When we see you yell fire and aim 

Cause when I fire them thangs it's like 

(You will be wonderin what are we gonna do now) 

I gotta watch who wit me, watch who pretty 

Drop two-fitty on a hot new Bentley 

But when it come to drops say he cop too many like, damn 

(You will be wonderin what are we gonna do now) 

Down with wonderful Cal. {they make Hummers in brown?} 

Nah I just shitted on you, even haters lovin my style 

I'm a role model, I make the hustlers proud 

I make the customers smile 

(You will be wonderin what are we gonna do now) 

Catch me in them thangs with Jennifer, BM's with Olivia 

If it ain't Vivica or somebody sim-i-lar 

Comin down the block the suspense is killin ya like, wow 

(You will be wonderin what are we gonna do now) 

That's Cal. we see him {we see him} we leavin {we leavin} 

He schemin, he be beastin 

Heard he kill people, we believe him 

Oh shit he's reachin 

(You will be wonderin what are we gonna do now) 



Killa Killa Killa Killa! 

Killa (Killa!) Killa Killa Killa! (Killa!) 



[Verse 1] 

Dial killa for murda once, no redial 

Just see child, the O G style and how I used to be wild 

This the story of Cam'ron and Zeke Giles one way road to the P now 

Yea the whoscal, ohh child you wasn't there 

Zeke snitched, if he did, I'd be doin a hundred years 

Did the interstate, big cities, tiny ones 

Took over niggaz towns, black ties, tiny bums 

Handsome hoods, pretty thugs, but we grimy dun 

Cars, cribs, money, had to find me some 

Zeke right behind me dun dun, he play by all the rules 

That's why the house is his, the cars, all the jewels 

Ya'll niggaz all are fools, your regular married with children 

Dawg, nine to five, office, pool 

Couldn't live that life, I needa loft and pool 

I had too much class, I ain't report to school 

If they report to school, I caught the stool, extort the fool 

Took off his jewels, thought he cool, gun to mouth, they often drool 

Fuckin wit this wolf, this should be taught to you 

Ya money don't matter, what you can't afford to do 

Is fuck wit me dawg, that could be affordable 

Hide ya mom, police protection, that's when I'm cordial 

Cars convertible, TV's are portable 

Fiends on line, coke lines, they come and snort a few 

Killa! 



[Chorus] 

(KILLA!) 

Guns, cars, bitches, and (KILLA!) 

Weed, smoke, dope (KILLA!) 

Glocks, ox ockin I'm cocked (KILLA!) 

Cam, fam, damn, it's (KILLA!) 

Season and the reason you breathin (KILLA!) 

Who buy out the bar though? (KILLA!) 

Who far from a star but they car is Gallardo? (KILLA!) 



[Verse 2] 

I was forced to eat, anything you lost I keep 

Shot the fifth, and then like a Piston, toss the Heat (Bye) 

Now round the corner, up the block, cross the street 

Up fifty flights, iight where the bosses meet 

And the Porsche is peach, felt like Boston George 

Left Boston Market, did deals on Boston Beach 

Now I bought the beach, all because they applaud my speech 

One nigga crossed the chief I know you heard he lost his teeth, and it's 

Killa! 



[Chorus] 



Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Taal: Engels

Deel je mening

Dit formulier wordt beschermd door reCAPTCHA en de Google Privacy Policy en Servicevoorwaarden zijn daarbij van toepassing.

0 Reacties gevonden