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letra de kill for - sonny stevens

[verse 1]
load up
like a n-gga packing some cargo
like a maniac when the car’s towed
get cracked in relation to a soft cone
drop more lines than a motherf-cking bar code
you don’t really want this work
i’m outcast and them n-ggas -ss, more -ss than a twerk
hold up, life on the line, my n-ggas do time
my n-gga chris in that house, and he ain’t living fine dine
you daddy and mine, was never there so
we k!ll those, and f-ck hoes, like d-ld-s
and still live like weirdos, god d-mn
this that sh-t they’ll k!ll for
but i walk around like i am bulletproof
and that is fully true appeal for
that thug sh-t, they love it, i was it. but does it?
give the same hype, same hype for when they’re busting
like a f-cking zip lock, when i start pick pock
n-ggas on the strip c-cked with a fff nine
giving your b-tch c-ck, when the f-cking stick rock
bring eight friends, i could fff all nine
and that’s that liquor talking
my d-ck a tonka truck when i f-ck this up
and they hate the way i feel to give no f-ck!

[hook]
this that sh-t they wanna k!ll for
this that sh-t they wanna k!ll for
this that sh-t they wanna k!ll for
this that sh-t they wanna
k!ll for that
put it in your grill for that
sh-t they wanna k!ll for
this that sh-t they wanna k!ll for
this that sh-t they wanna
k!ll for that
put it in your grill for that
still everybody gotta build for that
me!
i make mills off that
k!ll that

[verse 2]
memories keep telling me f-ck up anything that is not a friend of me
b-tch you can get in front, never ahead of me
hit it from the back, get her squirming like a centipede
on this notepad, i go mad
with me solo, there’s no hope
and these rappers are not rad
they take up sp-ce like a whole note
man my time is the realest, f-ck your time, it just ain’t
try to stand up to this sh-t, get knocked out like a faint
this that dgm flow, this that bmg business
never thoughts of a god, i don’t give no forgiveness
because these b-tches are something, they’re taking toll
on me, while stressing, i’m taking a toke
and then i’m confessing, i’m getting so cold
runaway rhymes, so i never go home
even as a tod, never was the type to start a f-cking prob
now its time to just f-ck up, everything, ceilings crumble to the floor
i leave a p-ssy just blown, i would trombone your hoe
then p-ss it on to her hoe, and beat it like metronomes
that’s the way that it goes, so i don’t love, i just flow
to make a mill and get more head than a pillow

[hook]

- sonny stevens

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