J.R. Writer feat. Lloyd Banks - Kill 'Em Dead | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• J.R. Writer feat. Lloyd Banks
• Kill 'Em Dead

[Hook - JR Writer]
I get the bread while you in the red
I be getting fed, and you be getting Fed
Player-hater it’s the truth: I’ve been ahead
Yellow paper in the booth: I kill em dead

Forget the fighting, that nigga down to front?
He getting hella-lightning popping out the trunk
Let him think he Tyson, fuck around and jump
I’ve got my liquor license; how many ways you want?
I’ll led the K spray, tell em niggas make way
Before I street sweep his ass and get on my K Slay
Let him trip; I pull it then it’s May Day
I’m from the Knick, but my bullets stay in AK
I don’t play-play when it’s pay day
We’ll take so many shots you’ll need to go to AA
Take a vacay, put me in your stupid flow
We’ll have the funeral right there at the studio
When I clap and I spray, caps in the K like ?
Happen to play, clashing with J I’ll put you
With ? to back in the day
Hey, you cats in the way
I don’t give a fuck what you happen to say
I kill em, kill em, kill em dead
? in his grave

[Hook - JR Writer]
I get the bread while you in the red
I be getting fed, and you be getting Fed
Player-hater it’s the truth: I’ve been ahead
Yellow paper in the booth: I kill em dead

[Verse 2 - Lloyd Banks]
I kill em dead, try to steal his bread
.44 spilling lead; floors, walls, ceilings red
Sport Porsche getting head, they here but I came though cleaner
Take care of everything on the meter
I’m cool with an eye on the Nina
Beemer, few goons on the set but I got mine too
It’s too late to hate, killed em for 9
Ate 9 more before you fill this plate
Ain’t from here, I’m just visiting
Big is the house I’m living in. My car
Fly, I’m super-cool. When it ?
This game I’m turning balls, fuck these niggas I burn em all
I’m a strange case, not the average Jack
You can have em back. Fell in love with Miss Mary
We fucking with the web on these clips
Preparing for the day we gonna be rich, shit
Corpse off the cliff, impound in the ground
Bitch find out how awful it gets
Wake up, riding this all for the chips
I can’t afford to be side-tracked
I’m chilling, winning, rims spinning
Real nigga, on contact: Banks

[Hook - JR Writer]
I get the bread while you in the red
I be getting fed, and you be getting Fed
Player-hater it’s the truth: I’ve been ahead
Yellow paper in the booth: I kill em dead

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