Death Merchants lyrics

by

Virtuoso


[Sutter Kain]
Yeah, n*gga
Yo
I know you n*ggas been waiting
It's that Black Sunday sh*t motherf*cker

[Verse 1: Donnie Darko]
These n*ggas mad that Darko back
Third album in five months b*tch
You can't top that
I was bred in the ghetto
So my heart all black
First check off rap
I went and bought me a strap
n*ggas say "He getting soft"
b*tch I'm a leader
I don't ask for respect
b*tch I ain't a litter, look
A little arrogant
Young ass veteran
n*ggas goin ape
With they ass pay the settlement
Never settlin'
n*ggas back pedalin'
Hip Hop sick and my flow is the medicine
And you will never win
Know who I'm better then
Every body f*ck ya'll
The game gonna let me in
You got a weak flow
We let the heat blow
Shotgun shell its the size of an evo
You a snitch
You in the spots where police go
f*ck beats, I keep the peace in these streets yo

[Verse 2: Skolla]
My goons never tell, writers never worry
Fake n*ggas is hyper, boss never yell
As far as measuring, you welcome little retail
Known to get it in, these n*ggas now like detail
So what you talking about
I know you heard of me
The boy Skolla hype
And I ain't have to say it verbally
Nothing going down
n*ggas moving up versing me
Keep tongue hustling
In order to get the word to me
Your day to go was untimely
n*gga jump off
I ain't seen him since he ran from illuminati
You dumb f*cks shoulda had better luck
I be on top like I'm stuck
I got the game lock, hand cuffed

[Verse 3: Donnie Darko]
Last time I said f*ck you pay me
And lately yo pocket's been slim no shady
All I do is get girls, have no babies
I ain't f*cking crazy
I'm just f*cking crazy
And I'm never lazy
I got mad work
Beam em up the sky
I got Captain Kirk
I told Sutter Kain, Bless that southern name
I only worry about the top
No one else to aim
I set the bar real high
I'm the one to blame
Your career is in the toilet
Down the drain
You runnin' with who
You comin' for who
While you think you coming for me
I'm coming for you
I spit it, I get it, I live it
You n*ggas is slipping
It's vivid the way that I spit it you n*ggas don't get it
Its a whole new era
Whole 'notha album
The question is me and who wanna solve the problem b*tch

[Verse 4: Sutter Kain]
I'm Sutter Kain b*tch
Range ain't sh*t
A little older, still f*ck your main b*tch
I'm a f*cking boss, I let her suck me off
While I'm making beats, but never drinking off
Old school .38 keep it on my waist
Shoot you in the mouth and ask you how the bullet taste
I'm a hood n*gga. What you wanna do?
f*ck fighting I'mma get the Nine and shoot
I'm a fire motherf*cker I'm a kill a booth
So bullets to your brain is the f*cking truth
I'll shatter your jaw
Have you eatin' soup
Shotgun to your coupe
Knock off your roof
I don't stress sh*t
I'm the best b*tch
Its the ghetto metal King on some next sh*t
Sutter Kain bring the pain on some tecs a bit
Knife to your throat
Watch you choke on yourself b*tch. Mother f*cker

[Verse 5: Virtuoso]
Whether you give me love or not
No matter how tough you talk
You sweeter than a muffin top
Give your b*tch a couple shots
Watch my belt buckle drop
Have her suck a c*ck
Sucka stop, you ain't brought ya Glocks
You making love to cops
Sleeping with the enemy
Big Bangin, Never So Deep
Team of the century
We're tearing ginas from murder Mass to the Carolinas
And have my sinuses burning grass like a forrest fire
I brimestone deployed it and had it dropping heavy
Like a Led Zeppelin
Got the world watching like the Royal Wedding
I give you nightmares you wakin' up in soiled bedding
This fire got me higher than the price of [?]
Destroying shredding beheading deading these veterans
He's gone let the Reverand in
I'm everything they've ever been
Devilish grin Big Virt, vocal Beelzebub
Music makes me high
When I flow you can feel the drugs
Permeating your system escaping hell on Earth
The game has never been the same since Miguel was birth
I does my dirt with Donnie Darko and Sutter Kain
Virtuoso, Don't you ever forget the f*cking name
You need a 100 rings to match wicks
We running trains on the game
Its Big Bang
Hungry like a fat b*tch
Get your ass kicked
Blasted spittin' out plastic
I'll brash you to the death
Plus attract something classically
Basterd Spastic Paraplegic
At the art of war I'm very strategic
I'm so raw they can barely believe it
You ain't packin' you backin'
I am very unemic
Leave you buried in semen
While your wife carried my semen
Deep inside her ovaries
Hoping she can birth a child dope as me
Vocally I'm choking these rappers on the sh*t they been talking
You a dead man walking b*tch, get in your coffin
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