Killa

I might long mink it or fly fox it
 Might floor seat it or skybox it
 What's in my pocket? Don't worry, I got it
 Araab, hit 'em with a sky rocket
 You a love cuffer, me and my blood brothers
 Cook the beef like Fuddruckers, duck sucker
 What I think of them? I ain't no judge, fucker
 What I deal with? Nothin' but drugs, brother
 Smack ya girl, kill ya pops, take ya mother
 Stab ya aunt, hit ya sis, duct tape ya brother
 First drawer is all suede, Jamaican colors
 Make 'em take cover
 Me? I teach laundering, Coke, please bond with me
 Only time you meet girls on E-Harmony
 The block, I treat like the pharmacy
 From the back of Delanor to the Armory
 Killa, killa, killa, we killa
 Killa, killa, killa, we killa
 Killa, killa, killa, we killa
 Killa, killa, killa, we killa
 Yo, if these walls could speak, they'd tell me, "Let's go"
 Like Wall Street, Billy First, Meeko and Gecko
 Was ambitious, determined, I'm in Joe Pesch mode
 They put my name in the black book 'cause they petro
 Black retro's, yeah, them 60 plus
 And black expo, necks broke just to look at us
 Ridiculous delivery, the boss type
 She fell in love with my kick game like paw spikes
 Half the shit you spit plain, you part nice
 Half the brick is cooked 'caine, that's hard white
 Automar bright, all the haters respect it
 Feel like a governor in the Schwarzenegger collection
 I'm just fuckin' them, I don't care who she slept with
 Shorty only good for the throat like chloraseptic
 These rappers hot combs, your boy the next pick
 I don't straighten it out, get blown when the Tech spit
 Killa, killa, killa, we killa
 Killa, killa, killa, we killa
 Killa, killa, killa, we killa
 Killa, killa, killa, we killa
 Yo, I was always a smart ass, pullin' BMs out of Park Ave
 Hand the rock to 'em off the ground like a bounce pass
 Coke ash, so was my heart when the pound blast
 You could fuck up some paper, just make sure gutter mouth stash
 No OutKast, love me low in the Big Boi
 Border her ass, 'throw some D's on her like Rich Boy
 Benz high class, Crown Vic's be our 6-4
 Shit is like Crenshaw, way to be Blood and Crip calls
 He ain't lying, get thrown from the 6th floor
 Blown from the 4-5, my dick in ya bitch jaw
 All them diamonds, that's what my wrist for
 Any problems? That's what the clique for
 Fuck a big tour, I sail on the sick shore
 Girls are like lotto, doggy, I pick 4
 Word homie, they phony
 Macy's, Neiman's, Bloomy's, they know me
 Killa, killa, killa, we killa
 Killa, killa, killa, we killa
 Killa, killa, killa, we killa
 Killa, killa, killa, we killa