Gawne, KXNG Crooked, Craig Owens - Hell to Pay lyrics
GAWNE [Luke Gawne]
[Gawne, KXNG Crooked, Craig Owens - Hell to Pay lyrics]
'Cause mama
You done made it out Chicago's west side
Ho ho, mama, let's ride- we
Roll, Bonnie and Clyde
I ain't going out quiet
Got time on my left wrist, God on my
Right, but I'm out of my right mind
So be quiet and don't ask what I'm rapping
For- this shit is personal
My momma gon' live in the Hollywood Hills
'fore she gets to the nursin' home
'Cause name five MCs in the game right
Now who could take me down
I'll wait- Crooked
We might just have to give 'em the
Rhythm that they came for now
When I hit 'em with the pro tank
Profane flow, til' the propane flame goes out
Until then, I'm the rap godzilla
Miraculous, I'm coming to take
The president down
Cause, I came for the most hateful
Cave troll in the white house of an AWOL
And his wife with an a-hole women say, "No"
But he won't stop grabbing the
Pussy by the handful
The man knows that he can't lose at a
Few scandals when Vladimir Putin
Is handing 'em
Wikileaks used to advantage the
Spirit in Hillary
Puttin' that nail through the casket
And it's a freaking apparent this
Country is reaching a point of combustion
But faith in humanity's practically vanishing
Conservative values have died
They're inanimate
And liberals are panickin'-
Turn into pussies, they packin' they bags up
And moving to Canada
Canada! You motherfuckers ain't
Really man enough how'd I give a fuck? I'm
Never runnin' for nothin'
Even if Donald's got the nukes
And he's coming for everybody
In the opposition, I'ma beat it
Open up a can of the whoopee
I'm whooping the mag cause I'm not
A man, I'm a legend, i wreck it
My records are breakin' every single
Record on the man
And the second the world ain't ready for
The return of the mic murderin' menace
I hurt 'em and burn 'em-
I'm pennin' the word of
The minute so call him
A medic with anesthetic
Before they turnin' to someone
You never heard of
Pathetic, at first I was headed for heaven
But the devil said I'd be better
Never repentin' for my pen
Again when the venom is venerable
I'm too fuckin' incredible
Unbiteable flow, it is inedible my legible
My decibels and trebles are impeccable
One flip of the rap and kickin'
It back to the momentum
I first had it when I was entering my zone
Whoa, look at the show- Luke Gawne
Crooked I and Craig O
You probably thought I was
Gonna slaughter every syllable
But, I'm rippin' em
The best when I'm making it spit it
Bitch, I'm limitless (Yo)
Walking on with thoughts of redemption
Plotting through my head
Voices said speak of division
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Vision perfect, fantasy isn't
Rotting 'till I'm dead- voices spread
Nobody listen
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
(Uh, Crooks, go)
Everybody worry about they guns
In the second amendment
End it, my nigga, I'ma tell you in advance
You want America to ban every weapon invented
Just put a gun in a real nigga hands
'Cause me holdin' steel wasn't
Built in the plans
Elephant in a room, I'ma poacher
Still live in a womb, I'ma smoke ya
Veteran in a mood, I'ma choke ya
Even if you're ill with your hands
You still getting killed- it don't matter
When a shooter go bananas in Nevada shooting
Outta the window at the Mandalay bay
Like he had a McCain
He sprayin', the crowd shattered
And the data don't add up- more than 58 dead
Conspiracy theorists sayin' they
Really ain't dead
But tell that to the motherfucker
Laying on the ground
With his brain matter splattered
Head shattered on a platter
From the automatic ratata tata
That'll make you
Change everything in your mind frame
When the time came, Dylann Roof let his 9 aim
Walk into the church
Turn that shit into a fire range
Squeezin' on the deacon til' his mind hangs
Sideways
Nine slain- cries, pain, eyes drain, lies
Blame
How do I explain hatred to a underage kid
Who's parents got their lives
Claimed by a killer
That the coppers got a whopper
For at the Burger King
After the murder scene
They don't give a fuck if we all die
Doin' a copper like an Eazy-E walk-by
Slaughterhouse logo pig gettin' hogtied
Fall guy, 'cause all I'm seein' is you
Devils bein' greedy for dineros
But, you fuckin' with a pharaoh, I'm
The builder of the pyramid monument
My eye's on top of it
I'm all-eyes seein', like Horus
All I ever needed was a chorus
The shit that get 'em hooked
From Philly to Middlebrook
These killers shook- you're
Lookin' at Crooked, you're lookin' at a book
Crook is a thesaurus, godlike being
This industry is full of shady -isms
They be in a favouritism, take a listen
Lyric disciple, I wrote the lyrical bible
Whoever said he did it
I'ma call it plagiarism
They was into Atheism, Paganism
Satanism- wait a minute pay the menace great
Attention- haters pissin', they be trippin'
They be listin' crazy
Spittin', daily rhythms, eighty bit 'em
Ate 'em like a plate of chicken
Players stick 'em for the blatant haterism
Say the mission ain't a
Mission if the lyricism
Isn't a main event when I'm paintin' pictures
You fuckin' with a verbal gun clapper
I hunt rappers
I gun smoke blunt rappers quicker
Than your blazin' swisha
Walking on with thoughts of redemption
Plotting through my head
Voices said speak of division
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Vision perfect, fantasy isn't
Rotting 'till I'm dead- voices spread
Nobody listen
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay