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letra de slum life - bukshot

[verse 1: bukshot]
show ’em how it’s done like a kamikaze
bodies in the trunk of my homie villies maserati
evidence we got ’em (got ’em)
pictures like the paparazzi never met somebody like me kinda like a jewish n-z-
welcome to the freak show
delusional and crucifix
juggalos and weirdos, i brought krayzie bone we ludicrous
bring them plastic bodybags to dump ’em in don’t let ’em breathe
i got something for ya looking forward till the day we meet
claiming that you’re gangster, talking all that weaponry
now your head bashed, master homie you ain’t scared of me
what you fail to realize, i got k!llers out here in the street
they not scared to take your family out and do it indiscrete
b-tch i’ll rep the underground
you can take the industry and shove it up yo ass every time someone decides to mention me
something isn’t right, off in my head i’m talking mentally
pull my trigger, i predict the murder of the century

[chorus: crucifix]
t-take off and give me (off and give me)
just one last time (just one last time)
to say this talking (to say this talking)
by taking mine (by taking mine)
load up them burners (load up them burners)
then burn a path
put a couple bullets a motherf-cker, leave ’em in a bodybag, i chalk it up to this slum life (slum life, slum life, slum life)
i’m ’bout the slum life (slum life, slum life, slum life)
i’m ’bout the slum life (slum life, slum life, slum life)
i’m ’bout the slum life
take it or leave it, but better believe that the sh-t that i’m breathing’ll leave you bleeding and none life (none life)
[verse 2: krayzie bone]
better back up off me (off me)
n-gga never go softly boy i stop your heartbeat
while you all in the streets yelling out what you finna do to me in the middle of your speech i’ma sweep you off your feet to sleep
f-cking with these dubs
keep thinking y’all don’t bleed blood
and i’ma make you a believer, pop-pop
would you receive a, a motherf-cking bullet from a automatic pistol?
hit you, him to
and all of the rest of them n-ggas that you got with ya
i’m collective in crime
but surprise n-gga, i get live
jumping up outta that buggy dumping, i’m finna show these n-ggas a little something, repping sh-t but thug life
n-gga don’t test mine, tryna run mine
built like my mother, n-ggas say “ball” (ball)
we show ’em the gun line (gun line)
steppin’ in the line of fire, boy if you want to (what you gon’ do?)
and the n-gga gon’ be on yo ass like skunks funk, pew
i grab my d-ck let my leg sw-ng from my thang (sw-ng from my thang)
if you’s and anybody k!lling n-gga, let the bullets rain
they’ll be pulling my string cause if ya ain’t you done got into some sh-t
with the thuggish (thuggish), ruggish (ruggish), bl–dy (bl–dy) murder clique (bl–dy murder)

[chorus: crucifix]
t-take off and give me (off and give me)
just one last time (just one last time)
to say this talking (to say this talking)
by taking mine (by taking mine)
load up them burners (load up them burners)
then burn a path
put a couple bullets a motherf-cker, leave ’em in a bodybag, i chalk it up to this slum life (slum life, slum life, slum life)
i’m ’bout the slum life (slum life, slum life, slum life)
i’m ’bout the slum life (slum life, slum life, slum life)
i’m ’bout the slum life
take it or leave it, but better believe that the sh-t that i’m breathing’ll leave you bleeding and none life (none life)
[verse 3: delusional]
i don’t even live on earth (earth)
i live in a sp-ce station (station)
i live this motherf-cking life you live it in a playstation (station)
delusional with the sawed off, leatherface and bukshot
if you can’t tell by the names you should already know they’ll be ready to bust glocks
but not too close to home, the streets is on fire (fire)
i’ll be merking off every b-tch every hater that try me with the
wire (oh sh-t)
i see a police (police)
but i’m hoping to god that they can’t see me
work under me like i work a nine to five (five)
police got me twice, now i’m on my grind (grind)
never shun a motherf-cker ’bout the enemies and them so-called friends
cause money’s a sl-t, she’ll always f-ck you in the end
ready to merk yo ass, we ready to merk yo ass
pistol be smoking like burning perp on glass
roll right fast
yeah that’s what i like to see (see)
a couple of bodies leaking blood all into the streets (streets)
and no i won’t speak, so i ain’t the one to talk to
bodies is fresh like period blood on my boxers (ha)

- bukshot

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