Raekwon, Agent Sasco, Melanie Fiona - Soundboy Kill It lyrics
[Raekwon, Agent Sasco, Melanie Fiona - Soundboy Kill It lyrics]
Ay yo, life's good
Cashmere sweaters in the rover
Pull up at the club, getting love
Pull em over
Jump out the luxury stroller for ballers
We sit, burn money all day, blow and roll up
Fine broads around, that's fly
That's a low ball
Paper settlin' it's real for my
Gold club come up
You ain't even know nothing
Last week all on the street
Yelling 'Let me hold something!'
Now shorty throw your booty up
Niggas with cash
Keep it above, we in Louis stuff
Sit back, blasted, do me something
When it comes to you, me and this rap shit
I'm quick to toolie up
My style, my fly, my weather
Yeah I drive high plus fly
You a devil, you endeavor
Mean days in Ciroc with the kettle
Throwing cream at shorty's, love it
He a rebel
Watch the soundboy, he 'gon kill it
(To every ghetto that's far, we here)
Yeah, watch the soundboy, he 'guan kill it
(I seen so many scars from it) yeah
No, we can't turn back the rain
Now we gotta find another way
Cause we grind it, burn it, street life's
Got me caught up can't you
Can't you see it's 'bout to blow?
Can't you see it's bout to blo-o-o-o-o-ow?
Raekwon, kill it!
Ay yo, wha gwan, you know what it is!
Assassin, soundboy gangsta, let's go!
Well mi say bodybag a zip up like a ziploc
(Blaow! Blaow)
Murder soundboy, kill the disc-jock
(Blaow! Blaow)
8 ball lodge inna yu six pack (Blaow! Blaow)
Say "it wasn't me" like Rik Rok
(Blaow! Blaow)
Raekwon, we got the game inna we hand
Control the dogs like Cesar Millan
Assassin on the track yo
Call it microphone-icide
Why? (Cause we murder every beat dat we on)
Then, soundboy yu dead and
Inna freezer you gone
Mi say you end up inna tomb
But anuh Giza yu gone
Raekwon a tell me, "Yo Assassin easy nuh man
Yu nuh fraid dem tek weh yuh visa mi don?"
Mi say no, sound fi dead, whole clique a dead
When mi say di sound dead
All di speaker dead
Amps dem, di control, all di tweeter dead
Aye!
It's real, man
The Chef, Assassin, Melanie Fiona
Word up all my soundboy killers
The DJs, hold the fort down man, word up man
100 cases of motherfuckin' Guinness
Nigga you know how we win this
Song feels so real 'til I finish this shit
Aah!
Cashmere sweaters in the rover
Pull up at the club, getting love
Pull em over
Jump out the luxury stroller for ballers
We sit, burn money all day, blow and roll up
Fine broads around, that's fly
That's a low ball
Paper settlin' it's real for my
Gold club come up
You ain't even know nothing
Last week all on the street
Yelling 'Let me hold something!'
Now shorty throw your booty up
Niggas with cash
Keep it above, we in Louis stuff
Sit back, blasted, do me something
When it comes to you, me and this rap shit
I'm quick to toolie up
My style, my fly, my weather
Yeah I drive high plus fly
You a devil, you endeavor
Mean days in Ciroc with the kettle
Throwing cream at shorty's, love it
He a rebel
Watch the soundboy, he 'gon kill it
(To every ghetto that's far, we here)
Yeah, watch the soundboy, he 'guan kill it
(I seen so many scars from it) yeah
No, we can't turn back the rain
Now we gotta find another way
Cause we grind it, burn it, street life's
Got me caught up can't you
Can't you see it's 'bout to blow?
Can't you see it's bout to blo-o-o-o-o-ow?
Raekwon, kill it!
Ay yo, wha gwan, you know what it is!
Assassin, soundboy gangsta, let's go!
Well mi say bodybag a zip up like a ziploc
(Blaow! Blaow)
Murder soundboy, kill the disc-jock
(Blaow! Blaow)
8 ball lodge inna yu six pack (Blaow! Blaow)
Say "it wasn't me" like Rik Rok
(Blaow! Blaow)
Raekwon, we got the game inna we hand
Control the dogs like Cesar Millan
Assassin on the track yo
Call it microphone-icide
Why? (Cause we murder every beat dat we on)
Then, soundboy yu dead and
Inna freezer you gone
Mi say you end up inna tomb
But anuh Giza yu gone
Raekwon a tell me, "Yo Assassin easy nuh man
Yu nuh fraid dem tek weh yuh visa mi don?"
Mi say no, sound fi dead, whole clique a dead
When mi say di sound dead
All di speaker dead
Amps dem, di control, all di tweeter dead
Aye!
It's real, man
The Chef, Assassin, Melanie Fiona
Word up all my soundboy killers
The DJs, hold the fort down man, word up man
100 cases of motherfuckin' Guinness
Nigga you know how we win this
Song feels so real 'til I finish this shit
Aah!