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letra de kill me - c.o.s. da criminal

[intro: brotha lynch hung]
bottom of the barrel type sh-t, n-gga, k!ll me
hmm, k!ll me
it’s what’s you gotta do, n-gga, just k!ll me
that’s the only choice

[verse 1: c.o.s.]
i don’t like sh-t when i write, i just write sh-t
to ignite sh-t like gasoline, fry sh-t
spy sh-t on n-ggas who get their pies flipped
high sh-t in the trenches whenever 5’s trip
i ride, b-tch, just like back in the days
i let that .45 spit and put them busters in graves
engrave bullet holes in ’em, this world’s full of those women
you know, the kind you like, the kind that suck all night
so why your cape on so d-mn tight? boy, loosеn up
‘member i used to juicе you up to rap and sell crack in the alley’s?
ducking mouse traps set up by the federalies and dirty rats
but i’m back, now
on some “f-ck the world”, i’m mad now
rush this b-tch’s pad, now
this b-tch is talking trash, now
put the smash down like wwf
or let the pistol up and blast out ’til everybody wet
do anybody want next?
who got game? i’m on the nets, still hooked on the game
throwing set out the roof of the ‘stang
hanging tec’s out the roof of the ‘stang
.45’s out the window when i stain
n-gga shooting through your window with aim
it’s just that north gate sh-t, on your porch late sh-t
one blast change your appearance like four facelifts
i’m in that way dark whip with the racecar kit
late night with the strap working the graveyard shift
[chorus: c.o.s.]
so all them n-ggas talking bad
because their b-tch at my pad sucking d-ck
tell ’em they gon’ have to k!ll me
to all them gangstas mad
because they see me in the traffic with a flag
tell ’em they gon’ have to k!ll me
to all them punk police
that wanna catch me with a whole thang of cocaine
they gon’ have to k!ll me
to all them set-up sl-ts
that wanna lay a n-gga down for a cut
tell ’em they gon’ have to k!ll me

[verse 2: c.o.s.]
these suckas can’t touch the thug
these b-tches love the thug
so n-ggas mug the thug
they wanna slug the thug
but i got guns and drugs ’cause i ain’t going out
i’m taking off on cuzz if he keep showing out
i’m holding ’bout 12 in the clip
something like that aside from the few i dumped last night on that snitch
i roll back on my through my own strip, just tryna check sh-t
guess what i heard, punk n-ggas been disrespecting
now i’m some sitting on the edge of the curb sh-t
like dre with my h.k. ready to serve sh-t
gone off a sherm stick, tripping off the past
and all of my n-ggas that didn’t make it the next class
i’ma pour my next glass for you
sh-t, it might be my last ’cause folks my liver is through
i’m still stuck up on my last hope, tryna get through
but still too many act like assh0l-s
that’s why when i see ’em on the streets, i pass those
probably wanna duct tape me up, n-gga, and blast holes
through me for the sh-t i be talking about their fast hoes
but i’m just being real, homie, like what that cash for
if you can’t make that deal homie, and duck the task force
you gon’ live your life behind steel just like you asked for
f-ck that, i’m going out blasting before my ass go
back to another mothaf-ckin’ facility
i’m k!ll everyone i see, better order them to k!ll me
[chorus: c.o.s.]
so all them n-ggas talking bad
because their b-tch at my pad sucking d-ck
tell ’em they gon’ have to k!ll me
to all them gangstas mad
because they see me in the traffic with a flag
tell ’em they gon’ have to k!ll me
to all them punk police
that wanna catch me with a whole thang of cocaine
they gon’ have to k!ll me
to all them set-up sl-ts
that wanna lay a n-gga down for a cut
tell ’em they gon’ have to k!ll me

[verse 3: c.o.s.]
i only ride with my real n-ggas
see, my n-gga tall cann, man, that boy will k!ll ya
my n-gga flat will have you back up in the river
doing the dead mans float with slugs in your liver
my n-gga lynch will take you bustas for a long ride
in the trunk, take you out, open you up wide
body dry, blood drips ’til there’s none left
guns cl!ck ’til someone rests, and drugs flip ’til there’s none left
we run the west like shaq and the lakers
it’s just that sacramento siccmade sh-t back in their faces
mr. no print sh-t, leaving no traces
bl–dy up the scene like jason, dead bodies in bas-m-nts
facing life if they catch me but they can’t even place me
at the scene of the crime, there ain’t no evidence in mine
and i ain’t seen no one left behind that could’ve dropped a dime
but sh-t, you never know, that’s why da criminal lay low
that’s just life, i’m just like most n-ggas that live the tough life
rather live that thug life and die than live that punk life
we yelling out “f-ck life!”, see how they breed us
into animals with all that bullsh-t that they feed us
got us running around with heaters, yelling out “who could beat us now, mothaf-cka?”
and for the times you tried to cheat us, pow mothaf-cka!
just take it in slugs
i’m take it and thug ’cause you know it wasn’t no love, cuzz
[chorus: c.o.s.]
so to them n-ggas out there talking bad
because their b-tch at my pad sucking d-ck
tell ’em they gon’ have to k!ll me
to all the gangstas mad
because they see me in the traffic with a flag
tell ’em they gon’ have to k!ll me
to all the punk police
that wanna catch me with a whole thang of cocaine
they gon’ have to k!ll me
to all them set-up sl-ts
that wanna lay a n-gga down for a buck
tell ’em they gon’ have to k!ll me
to all the n-ggas talking bad
because their b-tch at my pad sucking d-ck
tell ’em they gon’ have to k!ll me
to all the gangstas mad
because they see me in the traffic with a flag
tell ’em they gon’ have to k!ll me
to all the punk police
that wanna catch me with a whole thang of cocaine
they gon’ have to k!ll me
to all them set-up sl-ts
that wanna lay a n-gga down for a quick buck
they gon’ have to k!ll me!

- c o s da criminal

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