Killa lyrics

by

Genius Translations


[Intro: Freddie Mercury]
She's a Killer Queen
Gunpowder, gelatine
Dynamite with a-
Dynamite with a-
Dynamite with a-
Dynamite with a-

[Verse 1: Young Pappy]
All white like I'm Mensa, (Mensa) I got Teezy in my Swisher (Teezy)
I dropped 2 Cups in August, (Two Cups) swear the mixtape too official (Two Cups, Two Cups)
Got two of everything, two watches, two chains, and two pistols
Not just two pistols, two clips, too, extendos longer than pencils
f*ck you mean? (What?)
I go hard for my team
Boy, f*ck you thought?
n*gga, I rock designer, shorty, this sh*t cost (No, no) I don't know what the f*ck you bought
So you not from over there, but you over there?
You getting whacked, give a f*ck if you the law (Boom, boom)
I done turned into a savage, this the sh*t I got taught
All I hang with is killers, I ain't never got caught
My squad go crazy
I'm with Shotty Go Crazy (Go crazy)
And on the B.O.S, Folks crazy, he be totin' the .380 (Boom, boom)
I dare a n*gga try to play me, I'ma lay his ass down like he lazy (Boom, boom)
b*tch, I ain't for none (None)
They put a n*gga on parole, see I couldn't walk around with no guns (What) boy, you can ask bro 'nem
He'll tell you 'bout Foe 'nem, and how them n*ggas see me and they run
'Cause they know I got it on me ('Cause they know)
And I can merch on my homie, I'm used to ridin' 'round by my lonely
But Sheen just called, say he wanna ride with me
So I put him in the back, let him tote that Macaroni
And that b*tch go brr-latt!
Semi-automatic, it took off a n*gga back
I wish a n*gga would try to run up on Pap
Hell yeah, I can fight, but I'd rather up a strap
I'd rather up a pole on a n*gga
Gotta keep a pole on me, n*gga, I'm too known for a n*gga
How you get caught for a pole, lil' n*gga, and you home already?Lord knows you done told on a n*gga
You can catch me on the Pole, where it's cold, you can froze, lil' n*gga
Need a sweater or a coat, lil' n*gga
No sense of humor, but if you walk around broke, lil' n*gga, I'll laugh at that joke lil' n*gga, with yo' funny ass
[Interlude: Freddie Mercury & Young Pappy]
Dynamite with a laser beam, guaranteed to blow your mind
Them fake ass Tru's with yo' bummy ass
Killer
Killer
I came a long way from sellin' dummy bags
Killer
Killer
Now I'm gettin' money man
Killer queen, gunpowder, gelatine
Smokin' on dope
For real

[Verse 2: Young Pappy]
I got money, I got b*tches, etcetera
b*tch, I was gettin' caught with this and go felon
No seeds in this sh*t, I'm smokin' on medical
Fla-Fla-Fla-Flats keep me up like I'm rollin' off Adderall
I be bussin', my squad ain't for nothin'
Let my Nina talk and she don't like discussion (No)
A couple face shots, couple shots to his stomach (Boom, boom)
His brains oozing out, that sh*t look like some vomit (Argh!) Somebody get his ass up! (Argh!)
Ambulance picked his ass up (The f*ck)
He's dead on arrival, (No) there's no point in trying (No)
The doctor or stitch his ass up or it's over with
P-B-G who I'm rollin' with, but you already know that sh*t
They pay homage like they owe that sh*t
I see you got a gun, you not on sh*t 'til you blow that b*tch
If I was a scared man, I'd be dead, man, smokin' Headband, tryna get higher than Redman
Pack so loud, I ain't hear what you said, man
You will never see me down or talking to Feds, man
f*ck what a n*gga heard
P-B-G be the word, I'm just tryna get a check like the third, ridin' 'round with my b*tch smokin' herb, got two twin .40's, that's the only thing his ass heard (Boom, boom, boom, boom)
Hell nah, I ain't scared, I'ma let this b*tch blow (Boom)
Boy, I gave your b*tch back, shorty, let that sh*t go
Yeah, I let her suck my di*k, but I let that b*tch know, "Hell yeah I got a b*tch", so I let my b*tch know
'Cause it's level to this sh*t, rules, regulations, she give me dumb brain like she never had no education
You ain't tryna kill nothin', boy I see you hesitating
Shootin' with your eyes closed, f*ck you doing? Meditating?
Boy, if you scared, go to church and read revelation
Quick to blow, thank the Lord I got better patience
n*ggas know, boy, I be higher than elevation
Bro 'nem turn the day you got smoked into a celebration, han
[Outro: Freddie Mercury & Young Pappy]
Killer
Killer
Killer queen, gunpowder, gelatine
Hold up
Man, I be goin' crazy
Queen, gunpowder, gelatine
Who the killer, n*gga?
Dynamite with a-
Who the killer, n*gga? (You not the killer, bro)
Dynamite with a-
You ain't no killer, n*gga!
Dynamite
Dynamite
Dynamite
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