Killa Killa (feat. Aiyana-Lee)

Baddie run the trap when I'm in these streets
 You don't wanna play, no, no
 Got a target on your back standing next to me
 (Ayy, hell no you don't know who you're, ah)
 Bad gyal with that look in her eye
 That'll make the Devil smile (skrrt)
 Papi, tell me can you handle my type? (Ayy)
 Ballin' on my level now (ah)
 'Cause my man's a killa, killa (ah, ah)
 Shoot like guerrilla, rilla (bop, bop, bop)
 So, papi, tell me can you handle my type?
 Hell, no, you don't you know who you're fucking with
 Music, punching, or the internet, I kill all of that
 20 million when I see the net, I made all of that
 Even when I'm ill, I see a vet, I'm an animal
 They know I'm eating up the threat like I'm Hannibal (ayy, ayy)
 I got no reason to panic when all the money paid
 Tailor-made, wearing Armani now that I'm feeling suede
 Money-made, now I can choose the weather on any day (ah, ah)
 Anyway, king of the drama, killing it every day
 Oh, know you hiding 'cause you always throwback
 Oh, rolling through the pieces on a Kodak
 Oh, I'm the catch, saving like a goalie (oh)
 Wishing, but I know you fucking hate me (ah)
 Bad gyal with that look in her eye
 That'll make the Devil smile (skrrt)
 Papi, tell me can you handle my type? (Ayy)
 Ballin' on my level now (ay)
 'Cause my man's a killa, killa
 Shoot like guerrilla, rilla (bop, bop, bop)
 So, papi, tell me can you handle my type?
 Ayy, ayy, hell no, you don't you know who you're
 Nah, you don't know who you're fucking with (nah)
 I know many come and go when I go to this (I know many)
 Turn up in killer mode (ayy)
 Legacy fiddling
 End another man and then I'm leaving them piddling
 I'm a beast when I'm on it
 Hotter than your bonnet (jeez)
 I really want it like buffalo needing women (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
 Shredding it, disrespect, and then I'm deading it (nah, nah)
 Repeating me winnin' the a figure like I'm Benedict (damn)
 Got the money flowing proper like an ATM (skrrt)
 Gotta see me glowing proper with that alien (skrrt, skrrt)
 Taller than the Makkah when I gotta stack it up
 Now she sounding like Chewbacca when she back it up (ah)
 Bad gyal with that look in her eye
 That'll make the Devil smile (skrrt)
 Papi, tell me can you handle my type? (Ayy)
 Ballin' on my level now
 'Cause my man's a killa, killa
 Shoot like guerrilla, rilla (bop, bop, bop)
 So, papi, tell me can you handle my type?
 Yeah, yeah
 Hell, no, you don't you know who you're fucking with (mmh)
 Yeah, uh, uh
 ♪
 No, no