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Pretty Chilli - Top Class Killa (prod. by Lil' Ca$h) | Текст песни

1
You won’t ever find my name in police reports
I’m invisible like Harry Potter’s cloak
Leavin’ at the backyard, not the front door
Runnin’ faster than the cops come
I know so many types of murder
Know how to cut your head from your shoulder
Wanna trick me? Better move over
You show off too much, but never grow up
It takes a minute for me to make you blind
Just a moment in time and you cry
When you gonna say hi, I say bye-bye
If you meet me once – it’s your last night
No one ever knows what I can do next
Where I be, who I kill first, who last
What I leave for dinner, what for breakfast
MJ fan, that’s because I’m dangerous
Run like cheetah, fly like Super Jet
You’re forgetful, me you won’t forget
Bet you never practiced how to drop dead
So I’ll put my shotgun where your mouths at
Imagine that: I’m Angelina you’re Brad
And I can kick you off like an insect
You’re my boytoy, I can play you like that
Time to dig a grave, not a secret
Mad genie, 3 wishes if you only fuck with me
No hugs and no kisses just strong limit
Scream like the last time, Lord won’t hear it
Nobody in this room but you and me
Don’t scared and I’ll kill you carefully
Straight to the groove till the song’s complete
Hail Satan, cuz I’m his emissary… probably

Chorus:
Top class killa
Call me everytime you need
I put them suckas in the boxes wit TNT
Top class killa
Gonna hit you till you bleed
As soon as I knock on ya door your death is guaranteed
I’m a
Top class killa (x times)

2
Homie, you can call me top class killa
Kinda Chikatilo, kinda Jack The Ripper
Got pretty face, but ya know what’s the deal, huh
I’ma ruin ya career like Godzilla
See ya undressin’ me with ya eyes
Better do it on the bed with a gag in ya mouth
No rough sex, last seconds of your damn life
What I got for you is handcuffs & penknife
Black leather mini-skirt fits my ass so tight
Oh yeah, you feel it, right? Feel it, right?
It’s a pity that I can’t make you smile
But I’m glad that I drive you wild
Bet ya didn’t know It’s just my lifestyle
How I make these muthafuckaz scream loud
They say they got their own bars
When I hear it my ears bleed hard
I make’em all run like Forrest Gump
Like Remy Ma I’d kill’em wit my gun
Maniac when it comes to hip-hop
Drip-drop, it’s your blood flowin’ down
Cold war, me against fake ones
They cry like they lost fav toys
Hands up! Freeze and stay where you at
Don’t make any moves or I’ll strike ya dead
Still hungry as fuck, but fuckin’ ain’t my goal
I’m gonna flatten ya hard and eat ya like a roll
See ya like to play, let’s play pain-ball
One word – 5 hits, don’t speak at all
I can leave ya alone as soon as I score
Dead or alive? Boo, I don’t know
Just wait until I’m done, but I want more
Moan louder, moan louder, cuz I said so

Chorus:
Top class killa
Call me everytime you need
I put them suckas in the boxes wit TNT
Top class killa
Gonna hit you till you bleed
As soon as I knock on ya door your death is guaranteed
I’m a
Top class killa (x times)

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