Homicide

Lyrics

Fuck rap
 Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic
 Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to
 Buck back
 Hold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
 Leave a suicide note
 Fuck that
 Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
 I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby
 I'm feelin' like I'm chicka-chicka-chicka Slim Shady with rabies
 I'm foamin' at the mouth, ain't nobody takin' me out
 Every single rapper in the industry, yeah, they know what I'm about
 And I dare you to test me
 'Cause not a single one of you motherfuckers impress me
 And maybe that's a little bit of an
 Exaggeration, but I'm full of innovation
 And I'm tired of all of this high
 School, "He's cool, he's not" rap shit
 Can a single one of you motherfuckers even rap? Shit
 No, this ain't a diss to the game, it's a gas to the flame
 Nowadays, everybody sound the same, shit's lame
 Like a moth to the flame, I'ma reel 'em in and kill 'em
 Know you feelin' lyricism when I'm spillin' it, I'm feelin' myself
 Yeah, yeah, Bobby Boy, he be feelin' himself
 Mass murder like this can't be good for my health
 When I rap like this, do I sound like shit?
 Well, it don't really matter, 'cause I'm killin' this shit
 Yeah, I'm killin' this shit
 Oh yeah, oh yeah, I'm killin' this shit
 Bobby, how many times you been killin' this shit?
 Find another rhyme, goddamn, nigga, shit
 Fuck rap
 Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic
 Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to
 Buck back
 Hold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
 Leave a suicide note
 Fuck that
 Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
 I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby
 I'm feelin' like I'm
 Chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka Slim Shady
 There's nowhere to hide
 We call this shit genocide
 Hit 'em with that (doot, doot, doot) and they die
 We gon' leave 'em crucified, we call this shit genocide
 I got bitches, I got whores, I got rare designer clothes
 No, we ain't fuckin' with that
 Yeah, there's a time and a place
 But if you ain't comin' with the illest of raps
 Callin' yourself the greatest alive
 Then you don't deserve to do that
 No, no, oh no, no, please do not do that
 You gon' get smacked, you gon' make Bobby attack
 You gon' make Bobby Boy snap
 You gon' make Bobby Boy snap (Bobby Boy!)
 Fuck rap
 Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic
 Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to
 Buck back
 Hold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
 Leave a suicide note
 Fuck that
 Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
 I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby
 I'm feelin' like I'm
 Chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka Slim Shady
 Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like Jay-Z
 Jig is up, you fuckers who didn't write anything
 Are getting washed now, chicka-chicka-chicka, like bathing
 Young Hova, I know hitters like Yankees
 Gun toters that pull triggers like crazy
 Unloadin', leave you shot up in your Rover
 Your body goes limp and slumps over
 Like A-Rod in a month lull, but he just homered
 Hold up, I said Rover because now your Rover is red
 Like Red Rover, so you know what I meant
 But I roll over my opponents instead
 Makin' dog sounds 'cause I gotta keep breakin' these bars down
 I'll go slow for the speds
 But when I go (roof) like the doberman said
 I still think the (roof) would go over your head (haha)
 Beast mode, motherfuckers 'bout to get hit with so many foul lines
 You think I'm a free throw
 Figured it was about time for people to eat crow
 You about to get out-rhymed, how could I be dethroned?
 I stay on my toes like the repo, a behemoth in sheep clothes
 From the East Coast to the West, I'm the ethos and I'm the G.O.A.T
 Who the best?
 I don't gotta say a fuckin' thing, though, 'cause MC's know
 But you don't wanna hear me spit the facts
 Your shit is ass like a tailbone
 And you're trapped in your cell phone
 On my chicken scratch, or my self-loathe
 I don't want to fuckin' listen to you spit your rap someone else wrote
 Used to get beat up by the big kids
 Used to let the big kids steal my big wheel
 And I wouldn't do shit but just sit still
 Now money's not a big deal
 I'm rich, I wipe my ass with six mil'
 Big bills like a platypus
 A caterpillar's comin' to get the cannabis
 I'm lookin' for the smoke but you motherfuckers are scatterin'
 Batterin' everything and I've had it with the inadequate
 Man, I can see my dick is standin' stiff as a mannequin
 And I'm bringin' the bandana back, and the fuckin' headband again
 A handkerchief and I'm thinkin' of
 Bringin' the fuckin' fingerless gloves back
 And not giving a singular fuck, like
 Fuck rap
 I sound like a fuckin' millionaire
 With the Derringer with a hair trigger
 'Bout to bear hug it, fuckin' terrier, the Ric Flair dripper
 Y'all couldn't hold a candle at a prayer vigil
 When I vent, they compare me to a fuckin' air duct
 I'm about to bare knuckle it, nah, fuck it
 I'm gonna go upside their head with a Nantucket, abraca-fuckin'-dabra
 The track is the blood, I'm attracted, I'm attackin' it
 What? Dracula, fuck that shit
 I'm up, back with a thud
 Man, stop
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
03:08
Tempo
140 BPM

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