Killa Kyleon

Killa Kyleon - Wamp Wamp Flow songtekst

Je score:

[talking:] 

Yeah that's right, Killa ay 



[Hook:] 

You know I roll up, with the purp' po'd up 

Bucket of ice on my chest, got me froze up 

I got the fifth down, top fold up 

Yeah bitch I'm riding around, with my nose up 

I'm switching lanes mayn, what it do 

I got my hand on the grain mayn, what it do 

I'm pop trunk full of bang mayn, what it do 

My Cadillac on swangs mayn, that's what it do 



[Kyleon:] 

Bullets'll push your T, when Killa empty the clips 

And that's for real, no not for real no that's the steel 

I'm from trillville, for real where niggaz will kill 

For a hot meal, they'll show you how that glock feel 

Cop a chopper, put a boy in his place 

Fuck fifty you cheap, without the scar on your face 

They say actions speak louder than words, but I ain't talking to ya 

I just put one off into your eye, bring your coffin to ya 

Lights out, meet the reaper sing your lullaby 

Slow singing flower bringing, watch your mother cry 

I'm a smooth criminal, I'm not Mike Jack but some'ing like that 

But I don't want your dope or your dollas, I want your life black 

The Mac'll have you running back, we call it craw-fishing 

Not a bar missing on a mission, to meet the mortition 

I make a movie out him, meet your audition 

Run the clip Rogers, now the boy twitching 



[Hook] 



[Kyleon:] 

The boy Killa spit infection, through your ear lobe 

He's nothing like them, so they label him weirdo 

Y'all spit it so sloppy, but I speak it so clear though 

H.D. fuck with me, your wife'll be a widow 

Stacks on deck, lay your head on my pillow 

I hear you getting money, well dido 

Flow sick, so label it hot spitto 

Y'all softer than Spongebob, the boy Killa brillow negro 

Show stopper brick buster, and a blow rocker 

Pull up on fo' choppers, get your bopper 

I do the beat smoke chronic, but I'm no Dr. 

Speak bad english, yeah but my flow proper 

Bullshit walk, money do a fo' and a forty 

Fucking with mine, and you can get your four out of forty 

Killa's a winner, you just a zero and a forty 

Think you fucking with me, you must be on dro and Bacardi 



[Hook]
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Taal: Engels

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