a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de ice man - constant flow

[verse 1]
the crowd explode when i spit fire
‘cause one line’ll set ‘em off like a trip wire
a sick cypher, pit fighters in a minefield
you d-ck riders, watch your step wearing high heels
you quite ill? well i’m a word doctor
bully raps—i’ll put these nerds in a hurt locker
y’all worth not a [?] cubic zirconia
no-vision-having–ss n-ggas—pupils getting cornea
i gotta school ‘em, put the truth in they formula
open up they eyes with they view on the coroner
glock coma, pop culture. moody euphoria
this is murder music—i’mma shoot up this orchestra
i k!ll the sound, boy. got to call me phil spector
i’m still respected in this game like bill withers
so step aside. yo, my clan be some real n-ggas
and we don’t recognize your brand like hilfiger

[hook]
we doing numbers in this game—y’all should know that
we really hungry in this game—never low-fat
we keep gunning ‘til we reign—it’s a known fact
so here, hold that. here, here, hold that
i’m moving forward with my fans—can’t go back
i see the future of these plans, light a dough stack
and y’all ain’t doing this, son, ‘cause y’all so whack
so here, hold that. yea, k!lla, hold that

[verse 2]
k!lla say he got hands, but his style’s weak and
he ain’t touchin’ nothin’, shadow puppet with a violent streak
he a cyber g. he ain’t the type to beef
his keypad is his speed bag ‘cause he type his beef
so many haters, i’m al qaeda to these silent sheep
body slam a wacka flocka fan like an iron sheik
i ain’t even tryna speak
‘cause son be lying through his t–th ‘til he see his t–th flying like [?]
i’m bucking at ‘em and i’m wiling for these papers [?]
as-salamu alayk-m or get silenced with the fader and these [?]
what comes from the mouth of these haters
well, y’all can eat a c-ck… roach tyler the creators
and when they see me, they don’t say sh-t
softer than neo—i’mma beat ‘em out this matrix
freaking soulja boy, son got me so annoyed
image real shaky like a motherf-cking polaroid

[verse 3]
i’m too fast for these tracks, so i’m steady growing
i’m running laps around these haters like jesse owens
these athletes is half-sleep like melatonin
i’m weight up like a 747 boeing
they try ta blacken the skies like chem trails
‘cause they don’t wanna see black in the skies like the red tails
my team fly, ‘bout to blow like osama folk
a [union?] bomber when it’s time to push the envelope
a new man, [?] girl boxing go postal
i fed your ex-girl c-ck—she call my [?]
open mic with this overnight delivery
my sk!lls ill and k!ll like the packages—y’all sick of me
y’all silly genre is comparable to w-lly wonka
a milonakis. we militants outta helicopters
you useless like obama with no teleprompter
this murder music turn the booth to hotel rwanda

- constant flow

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS