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Anybody Killa - Tools lyrics
(featuring Blaze Ya Dead Homie) I wanna know where the fuck are my down ass underground killas Straight cap peelas Walking the earth, been mean since birth Taking every damn thing in sight that's worth Somebody stabbing you in the back, for a pebble of crack Eastside bitches like that Sometimes I feel that I can't eat, can't sleep Put me in a hole baby 6 feet deep Better yet, just leave me alone I've survived this long with a microphone Roaming the streets, mean mugging police Left hand on my nuts right gripping a piece So now I feel that I owe it to ya'll You're the reason that I'm here instead of dead and gone And don't think that I'm here to stress you out I just wanna let you know what I'm about (Chorus x2) (Blaze Ya Dead Homie) Tomahawks, shotguns, axes, chains These are all the things that a G brings To your party, birthday, wedding, funeral Streets is crucial, competition zero Face facts, do the math You can try to relax but this killa ain't like that Wait a minute let me tell the truth I'm relaxed like a mothafucka tomahawking a fool Walk away just keeping my cool Like I'm sneaking in line at a big venue No traits, no motive, nobody, no clue Yo Blaze am I right? (WOOP WOOP) That's what the fuck I've been trying to say Me and my whole damn family acting murderous ways That's why we only gather once a year Because the world really can't afford to disappear So now we all break bread never misled And the drama that I bring you will never forget And the ones that's down no matter where you're at I'm just here to let you know that I got your back (Chorus x2) (Blaze Ya Dead Homie) Tomahawks, shotguns, axes, chains These are all the things that a G brings To your party, birthday, wedding, funeral Streets is crucial, competition zero (Blaze Ya Dead Homie) I'm bored as the come, homie don't be slipping acting dumb Shove the pistol in your mouth slightly quicker than some The streets are talking I be listening, hearing Repping for my thugs who got nothing to be fearing Ask me if I ever been jacked, I've been screwed and taxed, don't ask Some suckas with two little stripes to attack Mothafuckas ain't shit, I'm a soldier Drag bodies into coffins by they bitch ass shoulders Middle name Murda, Colton Grundy the rest You see me packing a gun in the vest Now do your best to stay alive, I ain't never gonna die Eternal like the galaxy, who wanna try? Me, I tell you one more time right I foze for mine Ain't no way ain't anybody gonna stop my shine Do the drivebys bitch smacking hoes and robberys I do it for the streets and the money, show respect (Chorus x4) (Blaze Ya Dead Homie) Tomahawks, shotguns, axes, chains These are all the things that a G brings To your party, birthday, wedding, funeral Streets is crucial, competition zero |
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