Lyrics
A murderer fighting the urge
Serve the people I prefer
But cross that line and a mac tec-nine finna bur bur burr
Especially if it’s a pig
Out there bullying kids
Heisenberg when I write these words
In the lab, we’re cooking that shit
Hollow-tips will leave 'em stinkin
These phonies out here on a mission
Close I’m living dependent on somebody else like Jessy Pinkman
Philippines all in my blood line
A Southeast Asian, who can run rhyme
Club light up like it sunshine
When I run inside the venue and I don’t mind
Pop a DJ through his laptop prop
Fire on beats so the mix don’t stop
Carmen hop on the turntable and let that 808 kick (d-d-drop)
Native Gun 'till I’m deceased
Black Chuck T’s on my feet
Sound killer, pour out a little liquor
Diamond supply —
Holding up beef with crooked police
All in they face, don’t ever retreat
Southern Khalifa whenever I speak
Might call you homes, as part of my speech
Money ain’t never that far out of reach
Found me a stage and give me a beat
Tell that promoter C-Knowledge is holding up peace
Make sure my money complete and I…
I walk around the street with a black tech 9
On the waistline, kicking that hype shit
I walk around the street with a black tech 9
On the waistlean, kicking that hype shit
Bout a hundred push ups in a day
Or one hundred for every day
Palms out, pull-up bars, dead hang, pull up again
Healthy food all in my body
Metal all over my shotty
«Ooh there go them flips again»
Whenever I’m up in the party
Proudly a gang of them soul assassins up in here
Girl scout cookies smoke all in the air
Cross .smoke in that air, the next of myself
And it’s not there, yeah yeah yeah yeah
Los Angeles that’s where I’m from
I’m used to that smog in my lungs and scream the trills
Watch me go punch, mack tears
Of the thirty I six
Now buggie. run that shit
Bust that shit, rifle go pop-parap-pap-pop
I love that shit
Family man with a defense mind
Take a ice pick, Imma defend mine
Offer the .so when I kick them rhymes
Well I sign, salute with a visit in the sky and a grip in your back
Kids in the back, microphones up, put a slit in the flag
Propoganda shit to the max Bam
Leanin, Purple codeine is not what I’m meanin
When I’m leaning
The balance of power is not balanced it’s tilted, leanin
Carmen, yeah!
Bam-brap
(Outro)
Shit got me turned all the way up homie
We broke, starving
Healthcare ain’t accessible
Education ain’t relevant
Politicians fighting about people in love wanting to get married
Tryna to keep dominion over a woman’s body
Shit got me bogged down
Real problems get pushed aside
Keep me high