Str8 Killa No Filla lyrics

[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs]
Five shots to the face, that'll do the trick
Better cup my balls, then f*ckin' wait before I do you, b*tch
Spread a round quart for the 223 for the f*ck n*ggas you moving with
And it feel like 'em when I'm on this robbing spree I hope yo crew agree
Snatching on these simp-ass n*ggas claim they gon' murder something
n*ggas been talking bout murkin' the Gangster, you hoes ain't murkin' nothing
To the street sh*t a n*gga never been no stranger, choppers? Keep a couple dozen
Never been a bird man, but I done robbed a couple of 'em
I get such a rush as I watch 'em beg for they f*cking life
Reaper came down and hit the switch and turned off your f*cking lights
b*tches be like, "Don't talk to Freddie, that n*gga crazy"
When I first jumped off the porch older n*ggas tried to play me, but I got
Big balls, big paws on a small puppy
Now I'm the big dog and you mutts ain't got nothing for me
Fresh out the guts, most n*ggas fear it, few n*ggas love it
Just give me my motherf*cking money
Cause all I got is...

[Hook]
Straight killa, no filla
No simpin' for a ho
Ain't taking sh*t from no n*gga
I came up with the bangers, the jackers and dope dealers
Sorry partner but I can't be rolling with ya
I gots to get my cheese...
[Verse 2: Big Kill]
Been in the streets too long, n*gga I gotta shine
Yeah, I might hate doing wrong but b*tch I gotta grind
Daughter need shoes, my sons need clothes
Two baby mamas fussing, I ain't stunting these hoes
I'm slamming them Chevy do's
Blowing Kill behind the wheel
Gittin' mo' and sliding them boulders out the Bonneville
You say [??] go hard, but his momma will
Jacked him for his package, dropped his body off behind a mill
Big Kill! b*tch I'm known to pull a 211
Them Gary police are scared of that 187
I see 'em on me so I bend a couple corners then
San Antonio to Dayton, get back on the feds
n*gga got that straight drop, hand block stay hot
Girls say he bout to test a n*gga, b*tch I think not
.45 sands(?) leave you leaking out your tank top
f*ck with me I'm down to let them things pop
Cause I got that...

[Hook]
Straight killa, no filla
No simpin' for a ho
Ain't taking sh*t from no n*gga
I came up with the bangers, the jackers and dope dealers
Sorry partner but I can't be rolling with ya
I gots to get my cheese...
[Verse 3: Freddie Gibbs]
Neckid b*tch, white sheet on the stretcher b*tch
Gone in sixty seconds b*tch, couple shots is all I left 'em with
Hit 'em for the muhf*ckin weight but I got my face sliced up by some mexicans
Muhf*ckas bout they loot, stab and shoot ya for them presidents
Cause ever since we was toddlers, we knew that we needed dollars
Tryna live off illegal product, yeah the sh*t they don't teach in college
Most n*ggas don't need no products, these corners is all they know
My homie 16 and won't see daylight till he 64
That's just how we livin' though, with limited opportunity
Be twisted off reefer, parents and teachers could not get through to me
My n*gga Pimp was schoolin' me, put me up on the game
Don't think with your di*k, but make ya b*tch keep yo di*k on the brain
Since then I been on it mane, and ain't thought about lookin' back
When push come to shove you can't be no pushover pushin' packs
So b*tch what you lookin' at? Keep them eyeballs to the floor
We robbin' these rappin' n*ggas for actin' like they ain't know
You f*ckin' with a KILLA

[Hook]
Straight killa, no filla
No simpin' for a ho
Ain't taking sh*t from no n*gga
I came up with the bangers, the jackers and dope dealers
Sorry partner but I can't be rolling with ya
I gots to get my cheese...