ever ever was for They say the cop wrote a letter apologizing to Oscar Guess they say I'm wrong cause I steal... Police in the ghetto, they is killing
On My Mama Fool I'm Getting This Money And That Kill'em They Looking At A Pimp Funny I'm Katt Williams Money Mike, I Gets Money On The Mic And Some Say
: Major! Hell motherfuckin yeah This one goes out to my nigga Mike Coolin, hell yeah Mama raised a hellrazor... born thuggin Heartless and mean, muggin
litte bitch ass up we are not killers, my vato will have you shot though drag through the body on fuck, like Kim Osario's litte sorry hoe ass, go ask B Real we burn
Fucken Cry Man True Sellin Blow Them Bonivilles Turn To Bm'z(Whhhhhoo) Some Niggas Want To B Mike But Me I Want 2 B Him (Man Lookin Good Man) 4 Finger
Creek, know'msayin? The ice in the watch reflects the light to her The money quite green and the ice light bluer The swag might kill her so I said good
kill her So I say goodnight to her She don't want me to leave I can see right through her So we dip out Burn one trip back Get low like Carribean Limbo
Murda the instrumental Murda the rhythm I ride to the rhythm of murda Its murda This lyrical venom I serve a Gone kill 'um at minimal murda Nigga burn
the sweat might kill her so i say goodnight to her she dont want me to leave i can see right through her so we..dipped out, burn, one trip, out get low
: If i was a serial killer, they would find all my victims heads in funky-ass station toilets and if i was a serial killer, i would be strage and deranged
've known about the Santa Claus killa Chorus: Santa Claus I'm comin, I'm comin, I'm comin The Santa Claus Killaz (4x) I'm a Santa Claus killa Bitch
be commercial... I beat 'em 'til they purple I'm a lil' bitty nigga, but I got a big ole chop, 2's that'll kill 50 niggas Didja do it? Thought it was
in Jamaica, We cut down the weed, bury the paper on dem acres. Martin had a dream, Bob got high, I still do both but somehow I got by. Preflo prayed, Mike
bitch ass up we are not killers, my vato will have you shot-o drag through the varrio and fucked like Kim Osario litte sorry hoe ass, go ask B Real we burn
burn brother for the real..fast Terrible lung split frame for reala One-man go low hit man guerilla Whispering there something of a thriller, killer Drift
holes in Jamaica, We cut down the weed, bury the paper on dem acres. Martin had a dream, Bob got high, I still do both but somehow I got by. Creflo prayed, Mike
