Killah Priest, Ras Kass - Vengeance lyrics
[Killah Priest, Ras Kass - Vengeance lyrics]
Yeah priesthood again, Killah Priest
Proverbs, the whole unit, Savoy up in here
You
Nigga wanna front, get him with the pump
Bag a body up, on back of the truck
Whoever this, ain't hear from since
Beretta's spit, then I'm off in the trench
Once the head spit, dust off my prints
Bullet wounds left more than an inch
Six in him and four in his bitch
Ya'll should just stop and
Just call it quit's
Only gonna end up in the morgue or the ditch
When I start rhyming, put my all in it
I ain't got time for no baller shit
One clip, take a nigga to the exit
Pray that he meet death quick
Poison body like asbestos
Shot him when the tech spit
At the same time, aim nines, canine
So what ya'll want, dog, what's the deal?
I ain't got, nothin' for ya'll
But lots of steel
I ain't, runnin' from ya'll got shots to peel
I ain't, fallin' cuz ya'll
Cuz my heart stays real
Yeah, looky here, ain't no crooky here
Punk pumps no fear or Kool-Aid
Pump shit the opposite of what you feel
Fuck what you say wanna see me trapped
(uh huh) , fucked in the game (okay)
Locked up in the pen, or
Caught by the flames
Nah, caught up by the same thing
Glock to your brain chain
Maintainin' these strange days, pains
What this fame brings
But how you gon' stand out
With your hand out, beggin' like a bitch
Expect me to do you a favor, and get you rich
Faggot, I don't owe you shit, so quit
Don't show you shit
Except, when I'm makin' sure you, who spit
Either it's this microphone click
Either way that go is a hit
So please believe, thanks to
Gullies and get gats, so easily
Nigga still wanna beef with court police
Your code on the streets, is backwards, man
As we hold heat, put holes in your jeep
Nigga, what you preach
You should practice and
This gat in my hand put you back in the land
Six feet deep sleep, eternal
They sold heat in inferno
Watch your body drop while
Your soul leaps external
Bullet pop like Three's Company
Did to Colonel i gotta taste for war
That's why I lick shots
And hate for ya'll, bigger than hip hop
Nigga stop ya'll not street, ya'll not
Priest, ya'll not Ras, ya'll straight trash
Yeah, Killah Priest, Ras Kass
For you and yours, from the force, the Horse
That's right
("the wicked") , 2002, 2003, whatever
What it's gon' be pop off
Proverbs, the whole unit, Savoy up in here
You
Nigga wanna front, get him with the pump
Bag a body up, on back of the truck
Whoever this, ain't hear from since
Beretta's spit, then I'm off in the trench
Once the head spit, dust off my prints
Bullet wounds left more than an inch
Six in him and four in his bitch
Ya'll should just stop and
Just call it quit's
Only gonna end up in the morgue or the ditch
When I start rhyming, put my all in it
I ain't got time for no baller shit
One clip, take a nigga to the exit
Pray that he meet death quick
Poison body like asbestos
Shot him when the tech spit
At the same time, aim nines, canine
So what ya'll want, dog, what's the deal?
I ain't got, nothin' for ya'll
But lots of steel
I ain't, runnin' from ya'll got shots to peel
I ain't, fallin' cuz ya'll
Cuz my heart stays real
Yeah, looky here, ain't no crooky here
Punk pumps no fear or Kool-Aid
Pump shit the opposite of what you feel
Fuck what you say wanna see me trapped
(uh huh) , fucked in the game (okay)
Locked up in the pen, or
Caught by the flames
Nah, caught up by the same thing
Glock to your brain chain
Maintainin' these strange days, pains
What this fame brings
But how you gon' stand out
With your hand out, beggin' like a bitch
Expect me to do you a favor, and get you rich
Faggot, I don't owe you shit, so quit
Don't show you shit
Except, when I'm makin' sure you, who spit
Either it's this microphone click
Either way that go is a hit
So please believe, thanks to
Gullies and get gats, so easily
Nigga still wanna beef with court police
Your code on the streets, is backwards, man
As we hold heat, put holes in your jeep
Nigga, what you preach
You should practice and
This gat in my hand put you back in the land
Six feet deep sleep, eternal
They sold heat in inferno
Watch your body drop while
Your soul leaps external
Bullet pop like Three's Company
Did to Colonel i gotta taste for war
That's why I lick shots
And hate for ya'll, bigger than hip hop
Nigga stop ya'll not street, ya'll not
Priest, ya'll not Ras, ya'll straight trash
Yeah, Killah Priest, Ras Kass
For you and yours, from the force, the Horse
That's right
("the wicked") , 2002, 2003, whatever
What it's gon' be pop off