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c.m.l. - knock yo brains out lyrics

[intro: vocal sample]
knock yo brains out
put a n+gga right in the dirt

[hook: vocal sample]
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
put a n+gga right in the dirt
knock ya
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
put a n+gga right in the dirt

[verse 1: 51 suspects]
discharging firearms where my foes dwell
on the block they smoke pot and make coke sales
stuff his body in the trunk with the 4 12’s
and discard his corpse in the dumpster behind the motel
straight up, no bs, no folk tales
i’a duct tape a n+gga mouth so he don’t yell
he in the bag with a tag on his toe now
cause if i plan to go in for the k!ll, man, i won’t fail
i’m a goon, i’m a villain, i’m a suspect
the type to make crimes manifest in the public
i shoot a n+gga in the back, he do a front flip
my shotgun ‘a knock down a elephant with onе hit
and what next if homicide is the subjеct
i suggest you f+ggots tuck quick before my guns pinch
my drum clip’ll leave a n+gga head busted
from his dome, blood drip, while people feel disgusted
[hook: vocal sample]
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
put a n+gga right in the dirt
knock ya
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
put a n+gga right in the dirt

[verse 2: 51 suspects]
every time n+ggas ride, 4 deep, no seats
the boys get to blurpin? bounce out with the heat
you’s a crash, lil n+gga, and don’t get slapped
and on your way bouncing out, n+gga, take this crack
tell your big homie “f+ck em”, tell em “n+ggas clutchin”
and if he actin stupid, guaranteed n+ggas bustin, it’s nothing
and tell em “come and get your chain back”
and a bunch of t++th grittin
like blood where fame at
drop him, nah, take this blood, pop him
and if blood flex up, guaranteed n+ggas sock him
and “they’re snitching” what the big homies told me
off them 3 snitches, gutter n+ggas can’t control me
so what you mean “get him”?, 3 said “hit him”
i look a dreda, i look at debo, n+ggas like “get him”, my own
and lil n+ggas, give me this phone
and tell this b+tch “ru’s up, 2’s up, or get domed”
[hook: vocal sample]
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
put a n+gga right in the dirt
knock ya
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
put a n+gga right in the dirt
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
knock ya brains out
put a n+gga right in the dirt

[verse 3: 30 boiz]
heem’s the ru militant
now tell me where the cash at
‘berg in your mouth, now tell me where the stash at
a lotta n+ggas talkin, bout they ain’t tryna shoot
got a 40 in my hand, with a shady in my shoot
get to flockin, steady knockin, hit his noggin, now we poof
they candy, pass the stir with the choppas out the roof
the tre pound gon get off and the sig gon get off
and his head gon drop like a ball in a temple
spray the mac, switch clips, then wipe the clip off
point it at your head and then let it blow like rick ross
sacramento king, clap you with the beam
n+ggas run to your lul thing, clap for the team
f+ck a info team mane, n+ggas get tagged up
like a stop at a store, man, n+ggas get gassed up
we smash up, it’s a team with a tooler
riding through your hood and n+ggas tryna execute ya
[interlude: c.m.l.]
n+gga, live in the flesh
f+ck you n+ggas, mane
cash money, fast money, n+gga
bank’d up ent, n+gga
51 suspects, n+gga
dreadlocks and headshots, n+gga
get these n+ggas, lil lav

[verse 4: prince dreda]
i’m a nuclear star, boy i atomize sh+t
i’m on a roof with a beam like satellite dish
on some samurai sh+t, black mac with 5 clips
one for you does a fold, a hit your candlelight wit
and this just another murder case
dreda help the murder rate
white lines with sh+lls right behind it, just like a turtle race
i got a pistol case, nah, that’s a different case
my blood partner got a choppa that’a pop ya, just in case
and you can meet the big red puddle with 2 g’s on each head
like a green bay huddle
my lil teenage cuzzo said they need they rubbish
you disagree with the scuffle, the .223 in the duffle
what’s a goon to a goblin? absolutely nothing
a handgun to a chop is a mothaf+ckin problem
dreda with the kater, a&s kater, i got em
night vision like a x+ray, i’m just pointing out the problem

[verse 5: 30 boiz]
it’s the funk season, where many n+ggas ain’t gon make it
them perpetrating k!llers be the first to get a facelift
i chase down my foes and stand above them suckers
squeeze and catch the rush at the sound of the thunder
the score for the team cause i refuse to be defeated
i last beyond the season
i’m in it behind a reason
it’s a politicial push, a motivated movement
my f+ck gang n+ggas: sly zoo and rock ruthless
knocking holes in sh+t and leaving cars roofless
762’s knock out the k when i’m shooting
30 under the glock, series 21
a weapon in my waist but in my grip, via 1
releasing aggression with steady tugs of the trigger
i channel my anger into my index finger
give it up with a mask to explode
i bang it and bang it some more
projectiles ejecting until it’s activated more

- c m l lyrics

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