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letra de prosser's dirtiest hitmen - gl0be_tr0-t_weiler

[intro: andyfknhastings]
prosser’s dirtiest, hitmen
six, figure ripper sick roster richest
b-tch made ballers get they sh-t shoved in extinguished
‘n every disabled list gets a brand new disabled b-tch!
dynasty clique crew, can’t afford to f-ck, wit
we some princes subtracting b-tches off a hit list
catalyst hittin’, bloodstream the minute
from tip off start second third fourth to finish let me get it

[verse 1: andyfknhastings]
athletic generals, takin’ on some peasant hoes
light ’em up! at night arrange for burials
flex ya ‘ceps, rip the stereo, ay, there they go
[k!ll the f-ckin’ lights]
power out in sector 4 go settle scores
mike lee, clutch as the f-cking come
snipin’ three’s like chris kyle from deep
we some sharpshooters, with the absurdest aim
mediocre f-cks best bet, reverse your aim
f-ck your rhythm only dead fish go with the flow
we play, to our own, motherf-cking metronome
man to man, zone, no matter the plan, holmes
i got the lock, tumble pick to make the padlocks drop
faster than hot b-tches drop they tops
toss they bras, anarchists, whippin’ f-ckin’ molotovs
green light lit rockets get launched
at the cowards who bombed boston at the marathon
beware when you roll dice, gamble ‘gainst
an elite offensive juggernaut led by
the successor and second coming of pistol pete, maravich
droppin’ asterisks next to stats so sick, that’s jake schwartz
leading an elephant stampede, parade forth
k!ller guard stricken fever fourth, jord’n pippen it
administering consecutive hits of ill -ssists
pickin’ pockets till we rich, heavy hitter handles [yo switch!]
flawless, sick slanging the rock, tih tih tock, tick
in transit, we toxic
convertin’ circus shots, to buckets and a trip
to the charity stripe, that’s three the hard way [b36]

[verse 2: andyfknhastings]
jenkinsssssss flip syde ajaxxxxxx
a turf territory we control the paint
huffin’ it, snuffin’ it, insufflation of f-ckin’ hits
got the, block, on lock
windexin’ the gl-ss like twin dennis rodmans on ritalin
like oh four ben, wallace bred piston kids
shredding harder than jimi hendrix did/
wit his guitar and every other f-ckin instrument
p-ss-es get precision kicked, in the f-ckin’ cl-toris
i’ll lay u out, like a, f-cking rag doll
every foul flagrant, nba in the 80s
you hear me call for the lob, then slam
the jam reverberates, and thats the last ya heard
that’ll be a wrap, end of half, close the curtains yo

[verse 3: andyfknhastings]
we deliver treatment, with no antidote
so, thread and prep for lethal inject
dexter slamming spinal syringes needles to necks
our starting five’ll cripple your best, so its in your best
interest to invest in a better bench
and learn how to talk, sh-t out ya neck
we’ll blow your f-cking head off, then wink at the ref [blaow!]
you some b-tches, gossiping, with a gift for gab
well guess what? we got a gift for that
runnin’ your mouth gets a gun shoved in it now
suck on my pocket shotty, both barrels
and [eat this], it’s like you flame f-ll-t–
cep’t now its twelve gauge t’ give brain t’ bro

[verse 4: andyfknhastings]
it’s old wounds i open
like a thoracic incision, to your f-cking throat when
i boa constrict your windpipes and crack your trachea
it’s choke artists i make of yall
at a loss of oxygen, from punctured lungs
you’s about to be the byproduct, of a young
bob, knight, on f-cking choking spree
players lifted off they feet
please don’t go provoke him please
sign next to the dotted line, for a nightmare package
courtesy
of the sickest f-cking faction
whether balling, heavybinge drinking or penning diss raps
it don’t matter, f-ck, i could dispatch
a siberian d-ck monkey, to b-tch slap
go monkey go ape sh-t, spit in your faces

[verse 5: andyfknhastings]
f-ck an interlude, verse 4 exit wounds
we conduct, like an orchestra
five units in unison motion fluid congruent-est
puppeteer plucking f-cking strings that steer
opposition into oncoming traffic, oh f-ck
demolition trucks equipped with snow plow attachments
severed brake lines, gridlock no traction
cars crashing, scream help seat belts no latches
one big metaphor for just how tragic a f-cking accident
for just how badly and bandaged, dirty pross’ll beat your -ss
game, set, f-cking match
from a-town to illadel to jersey to anywhere
to f-cking anywhere

- gl0be_tr0 t_weiler

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