Slimm Calhoun, Killer Mike - Well lyrics
Killer Mike [Michael Santiago Render] Atlanta, Georgia, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Slimm Calhoun, Killer Mike - Well lyrics]
Y'all playin with this game
And it's a damn shame yeah
This game real, boy
You can get scarred and barred in it
If your heart ain't in it
Caught up in this world spinnin
Before you started you was finished
Dehydrated and deplenished
Niggas is all washed up without
A swallow in they cup
Cause everytime a chicken cluck
You trickin a buck
You pressed your luck and got stuck
Fuckin up the re-up
That's the ones with big talk and no game
Spendin chips but no change
All the dope and no caine
War stories but no pain
The same ones that pop lip then flag ship
Then gotta hip skip before
Real niggas pop clips you better hop hip
(Well, well, well, well
Well, well, well, well)
(Well, well, well, well
Well, well, well, well)
(Well, well, well, well
Well, well, well, well)
In God I trust and in the crowds I bust
Smokin weed to calm down
I'm so blown off dust
It's harder to feel pain when
My brains is mush
I know it's fucked up how fathers
Turn they back on us
And our sick sad mamas smoking crack on up
Slime-ass po-po right in the back of us
Connected muthafuckas got better
Crack than us
But rich muthafuckas ain't gon' mash like us
Hear sirens coming and continue to bust
Lustful ways, livin in these mistrustful days
Who said crime don't pay
Niggas out here cockin k's
Don't drop, they spray, one shot, you lay
Toxic waste
One pine box, one case, I'll block yo place
I beat niggas senseless for
Jordans and sixty dollars
Pinned hoes' toes to the earlobes and collars
In the back of a Impala, all to deliver pain
Twist her frame and hear her holler
So savage that it's gettin harder
For me to see redemption in tomorrow
So far from God that I'm finding
Righteous paths hard to follow
I'm gulping vodka
I'm killin sorrow in the bottom
Of a sky bottle so depressed and sick and
Slimm young and gifted
I'm just sick and twisted
Corner-clockin, in the backroom work-choppin
From Biscayne to Boat rockin
One-stop shoppin
Guarded by Glock and cash, ain't no stoppin
They party pill-droppin till all
The drawers droppin
'dro-ed up, my niggas stay poured up
Sho nuff hold up, big bank we fold up
So who wanna roll up? We got that heat
So you better drop that beef
Before they pop and sweep your
Whole block in one heap
Stay at the gun show in
A Range cockin new thangs
Like we out west, playa, down to whoo bang
Come on!
And it's a damn shame yeah
This game real, boy
You can get scarred and barred in it
If your heart ain't in it
Caught up in this world spinnin
Before you started you was finished
Dehydrated and deplenished
Niggas is all washed up without
A swallow in they cup
Cause everytime a chicken cluck
You trickin a buck
You pressed your luck and got stuck
Fuckin up the re-up
That's the ones with big talk and no game
Spendin chips but no change
All the dope and no caine
War stories but no pain
The same ones that pop lip then flag ship
Then gotta hip skip before
Real niggas pop clips you better hop hip
(Well, well, well, well
Well, well, well, well)
(Well, well, well, well
Well, well, well, well)
(Well, well, well, well
Well, well, well, well)
In God I trust and in the crowds I bust
Smokin weed to calm down
I'm so blown off dust
It's harder to feel pain when
My brains is mush
I know it's fucked up how fathers
Turn they back on us
And our sick sad mamas smoking crack on up
Slime-ass po-po right in the back of us
Connected muthafuckas got better
Crack than us
But rich muthafuckas ain't gon' mash like us
Hear sirens coming and continue to bust
Lustful ways, livin in these mistrustful days
Who said crime don't pay
Niggas out here cockin k's
Don't drop, they spray, one shot, you lay
Toxic waste
One pine box, one case, I'll block yo place
I beat niggas senseless for
Jordans and sixty dollars
Pinned hoes' toes to the earlobes and collars
In the back of a Impala, all to deliver pain
Twist her frame and hear her holler
So savage that it's gettin harder
For me to see redemption in tomorrow
So far from God that I'm finding
Righteous paths hard to follow
I'm gulping vodka
I'm killin sorrow in the bottom
Of a sky bottle so depressed and sick and
Slimm young and gifted
I'm just sick and twisted
Corner-clockin, in the backroom work-choppin
From Biscayne to Boat rockin
One-stop shoppin
Guarded by Glock and cash, ain't no stoppin
They party pill-droppin till all
The drawers droppin
'dro-ed up, my niggas stay poured up
Sho nuff hold up, big bank we fold up
So who wanna roll up? We got that heat
So you better drop that beef
Before they pop and sweep your
Whole block in one heap
Stay at the gun show in
A Range cockin new thangs
Like we out west, playa, down to whoo bang
Come on!