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letra de baki // rot - kill dyll

[verse 1: k!ll dyll]
we are not the f-ckin’ same
don’t compare me to no copies
no competition, ’cause i k!lled them like i’m baki
n0bodies talk, all i hear is the static
actin’ all hard, till they hear automatics
pray to your god, if you got one then stop it
i’m sick of the f-ckers, that talk like they got it
talkin’ that sh-t say it once then he froze
saying it twice, get him shot akimbos
thirsty for cloud, like you f-ckers are hoes
get off of my d-ck, lil b-tch you get hosed

[verse 2: gashum]
leave me alone
i hate when i see that you’rе calling my phone
you all did me wrong
you talked down on mе right inside of my home
i cut to the bone
to feel anything ’cause i’m always so numb
i pull out the gun and place it right inside my motherf-cking dome
i don’t care what you say
look into my eyes do you think i f-cking play
i know 100 different ways i could take apart your face
i hope you know i’d never lack i keep a blade right on my waist okay
i do all this for fun, i got this b-tch on her knees like a nun
you p-ssy i know if i pull up you’ll run
b-tch i hope you f-ckin’ rot, rot, rot, rot, rot, rot, rot
b-tch i hope you f-ckin’ rot, rot, rot, rot, rot, rot, rot
b-tch i hope you f-ckin’
[verse 3: k!ll dyll]
came with the flows, never came for the hoes
fame till it blows, propane to the nose
f-ck what they think what they say, what they know
cocaine in the brain of the lames and the foes
duckin’ and f-ckin’ up all the fakes till they go
mother f-ckers are lucky i’m feelin great, overdose
can you run it i wonder, you lookin slow in the dome
put a 40 inside of it then we wait till it blows
wait till the fade put a cave in his face
mother f-ckers wanted pain you god d-mn disgrace
illuminati i’m catching body on body
i never thought he was salty only wanted a hobby
shout the pastor he claiming the south
my brother in europe kiraw is about
to take over anyways, f-ck all the clout
we make it the petty way with or without
never came for the money only came for the woes
rain for the funny 23s to the dome
we makin’ the money makin’ capitol
if that boy keep on cappin, i’m cappin his dome

[outro]
you dirty little b-tch, i know you love the way i spit
fire in my lungs with the fire on my hip
you dirty little b-tch, i know you love the way i spit
fire in my lungs with the fire on my hip

- kill dyll

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