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letra de the track killa - king cesar

king cesar ft. megalon – “the track k!lla”
[emcee(s): megalon]
[producer(s): x-ray da mindbenda]

[verse 1: megalon]
where did the
h-rns go? the trombone must be scared. y’all n-ggas’
trumpet said some dumb sh-t, he must have been drunk with blunts lit
piano punk pump this, drums get punched if they don’t
stop where i want it, drummers with broken drumsticks
pump your fist to punchlines, and my sixteens is gun clips
i shoot female rappers in the mouth when we tongue-kiss
my tongue spits ammunition, young kids’ chicks saying
“my man is missing,” with my tape in their hand, listening
dumb b-tch, it’s tommy gunn. dun, listen
my sons in prisons
the rhythm in my voice is sitting in them cells with ‘em, jail dance
come get ‘em, bum sh-t. when they come home, they’re coming
to the show, come with ‘em, son. kids see guns spit—that’s out-
-rageous

[hook: megalon]
i got slugs by the side of my tongue, i body beats
my wordplay pops bullets in the side of the drums
melodies try to run, my vocals told me, “i got a gun”
that’s why, every time i spit, it’s a hot one. the hi-hats
got shot once, my ad-libs carry shotguns, my
voice’ll put a hole in your vest if you got one
the basslines call me top gunn
[verse 2: megalon]
here’s
to rap careers, cracked beers, my slurred words. in
this life, we listen, s-slap snares, my street speech
s-s-sn-tch ears, and when i sing
guitar strings snap. yeah, yeah, i had to buy
my engineer black gear last year. he laid the track
son laid the track down, we buried the dat back there
microphones act scared. is it on, black?
(why, you can’t?) nah. (that’s weird. you hear that?)
yeah, down south, djs tell me
my raps cracks the wax, the track dead

[hook: megalon]
y’all got
razors, i got slugs by the side of my tongue, i body beats
my wordplay pops bullets in the side of the drums
melodies try to run, my vocals told me, “i got a gun”
that’s why, every time i spit, it’s a hot one. the hi-hats
got shot once, my ad-libs carry shotguns, my
voice’ll put a hole in your vest if you got one
the basslines call me top gunn

[verse 3: megalon]
duke, listen
(-whistling-) i know you
wondering, “why the f-ck is you whistling?” ‘cause instruments
are hidden and musicians is missing. you listen to who’s spitting
my lyrical written with small pieces of pencils
put inside pistols in position, fitting to pop ten hoes
in the temple/tempo. who’s the dude getting
sent by the productions? who’s listening? who’s gripping
the pen? i c-ck the pen, pop, pop, popping
hot ones in a rhythm, murdering the music
my words is in two clips
[hook: megalon]
y’all got
razors, i got slugs by the side of my tongue, i body beats
my wordplay pops bullets in the side of the drums
melodies try to run, my vocals told me, “i got a gun”
that’s why, every time i spit, it’s a hot one. the hi-hats
got shot once, my ad-libs carry shotguns, my
voice’ll put a hole in your vest if you got one
the basslines call me top gunn

[verse 4: megalon]
my raps
backslaps the sax, the raps got scratched
i rock nice slacks at the flute’s funeral
and shot slugs through the lute. you hear that beat that’s
back in the sampler, saying, “who are you?” the sampler be
the true trooper to the crew. i had to tell him, “they’re all using you
just so that they can be heard.” he said, “true, true.” i said
“all praises due to you. you made hip hop beautiful. you gave
young rap cats who produce a way to eat
for the way they play the beat. you are the t–th—without you
there’s no way that we could chew the food.” he told me
not to shoot the loop. “loop is a trooper too.” then he said
“him and i can teach you to produce”

- king cesar

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