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CROOKED - Psychopath Killer | Текст песни

It's an elite drinker, mister ringleader
I'm a deep thinker, I'm a street preacher
With a street sweeper full of heat seekers
In your Jeep speakers I'mma keep ringers
I don't need heaters, I got the meat cleaver
Welcome to the slaughterhouse
Niggas try to tell me I spell too much
Capital S to the laugh to the T-E-R
Ho, U-S-E, now go to hell you fucks, word
Making work disappear quick as magic
Abracadabra, the traffic blacker than Africa
Can you imagine a nigga flipping bread for the blood?
Money like Dracula, hand him some spatula, ask me a question
Am I the best with the flexing?
Fuck yes with the goon talk
I just moonwalk all over the beat then I'm lightin' up the street
CROOKED going Michael Jackson on Thriller
I'm a psychopath, I'm a killer

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