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letra de i''ll bury you - sullee j

verse 1
royce da 5’9

im not the one to step to
my word, i’m the sh-t
unless you a fu–in deaf mute
you heard i was sick
on my 4th record deal
the points ain’t change
run up on your rover
and put you in point blank range
microphone terrorist
verbal bin laden
tear your head off in front of 30 mil’ watching
dirty pill poppin’
pus-y eating criminal
money making
murda, mc general!

sullee j

cynical!
haters get evaded
with lasers, eradicated
pistol parading
trigger ventilation
uncivil with the 9
no limit, elimination
soul sn-tching bigoters
bitter the generation
belittle til’ there little
through drivel manipulation
ignorant deliverer’s
figure with no parameters
incinerate the image
of visionary ambitioner’s
the devil keep on talkin’
but never was i a listener

hook

all you haters go to h-ll
my soul i’ll never sell
i’ll bury you!
down with the shovel
you ain’t even on my level

verse 2
royce da 5’9

i’m a lyrical dope man
i should get my phone tapped
slaughterhouse wizard
i should rock a cone hat
styrofoam cup
is probably where the patron at
in the mouth of your bi–h
is probably where my bone at
i went from getting into fights
getting sparked at
to sipping, sitting at the light
getting gawked at
the vale see me and tip me just to park that
we bought everything out of gucci
now we off that

sullee j

my trigger straight raid
deliver with vigor rage
p-ss royce the machete
deminish you, with a plague
i deposit you in rivers
dismiss you, i will invade
with a razor, incinerate!
disintegrate! craze!
i just rose out of h-ll
with a cold cerebell..
k!ll’t the devil and his hoe
kept my soul, so surreal
ask god, i been to heaven
til’ he forced my expel
reveal i will a spell
with a torturous quell

verse 3

cashis

im in an out of them cases
hd lab
started out in the bas-m-nt
free from the chains
the industry like a slave ship
and underground acts
built they hip hop nation
remain un-famous
young, wild and dangerous
the come round suckers
that don’t know how good my aim is
spark the weed, flaming
my night lights, bright like in vegas
i’m way to major
for all y’all haters
cook corners in the tricked out whip
this ain’t basic
underground sound out the bas-m-nt
all black whips from soft white
something like a slave ship
smoked out
live in the matrix
theres money all around
no need to chase it
be at bay, banking
6 digits in franklins
indiana pacin’, drag racin’
180 on the side street
screaming mama, i made it

- sullee j

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