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letra de be a witness - killa klan kaze

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[hook]
k!lla klan
come get this, big business, motherf-cker be a witness

[verse 1: k-rock, from k!lla klan kaze]
now i was coming in up in memphis on that m-th-f-ckin real sh-t
bullets in chamber, filled up with anger, paid all my dues to triple the 6
scan man might take your -ss, slowly grab the pistol grip
crunchy black up in the back seat, loading up my extra clip
coppers got me in a chase, i can’t catch no murder case
i pulled over, grabbed my glizzock to my hand and popped the car
dj paul looked at me, nervously without a sweat
carlo haywood got his check, robbed the dope mane broke his neck
ox and vogues put up on hoes, stinging like a bumble bee
european chevy thang pop out woodgrain leather seats
south memphis k!lla playas, we got brand new tapes for sale
“mystic stylez” bumpin’ loud, in the south we bring a crowd
chevy thang finna go clean, car jack wit the f-ckin’ pump
cuz show me love, k-rock locked ’em in the f-ckin trunk
d-mn i’m going crazy mane, razor blade cuttin’ in my hand
maybe i’ll be savin babies, f-ck my lady i’m the man
rappin’ ain’t no f-ckin thang, triple 6 be biggity-bang
shootin’ me up me block, witta me glock, and that man known k-rock
finna be c-ckin’, attackin’ and poppin’
and droppin’ these coppers like enemy n-ggas
that can’t pull a trigger, i figure this pimpin’
that’s leavin’ them limp the triple 6
now i’m back when i been on the track wit the scarecrow
cuz the dj paul pop in the clip, no slippin’ you’re trippin i’m taking no lip
n-ggas are droppin their musical styles
k!lla klan gonna blast them b-tches, catchin ’em when they slippin pimpin’
triple 6 done warned your -ss, b-tch we have no f-ckin witness, f-ckin witness

[hook] – 4x

[verse 2: mc mack, from k!lla klan kaze]
i got a street sweeper just to keep these playa hater n-ggas up off my back
but yet i’m always the center of attention
pimpin’ -ss n-gga known as mc mack
you best believe i’m packin ammunition for these busta snitches
stangin, robbin, ain’t no thang
a pimp done went from rags to riches
hustling on the track, my ends is stackin
cuz i’m breakin heifers
make my cheese, b-tch break your knees (god-daaamn!)
the pimpin mack is clever
bustas trying to playa hate me, but they cannot aggravate me
droppin salt off in my game, but mc mack will never change
i’m chiefin like an indian and thats the type of stage i’m in
i’m blastin wit this yawk and trick we stangin like a f-ckin wasp
provoke me, joke me, play me, make me, buck your b-tch -ss, pull your card
we creepin late at night with them thangs on the rudy poot
trick lets see who’s hard
i ask myself the question why these watermelon n-ggas want test my pimpin
jealous cuz i’m ridin on gold and sweatin these hoes up out they clothes
so brace yourself for the impact of the mack, this ain’t the first of the month
and we breakin bones in half, and blastin b-tches
ho so be a witness, be a witness

[hook] – 4x

[verse 3: scan man, from k!lla klan kaze]
there’s no love up in a n-gga when i’m creepin for a k!lling
when you b-tches slips, the mac-10 cl!cks, buckin b-tches with no patience
so in the med is where you lie dead, from them buckshots through your crest, bullets fled
ripping and stripping an armageddon worn to shreds
pimp sh-t k!lla scan the man, i leave them b-tches scared from horror
of the corpses that i torture sufferer, in them chambers
the mourning, the crying, cuz eternally they torment
the burning (shhhh) in the bottom of my pits b-tch
i’m raising back up on you n-ggas real quick just like the evil dead
my master whatever powers to devour you b-tches that burn in h-ll
i’m cl!ckin with madness from the triple 6 k!lla demons
the anger that’s in me has got me splittin b-tches crests man
i’m lurkin, i’m creepin, here come the scan man sneakin in
to drop a mac-10 bomb and leave bodies in a slum
the k!lla klan m-ssacre, leavin them b-tches to rot in them ditches
when vengeance of demons slit young b-tches then they rip them in pieces
no love b-tch

chorus till end

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