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cautious klay - the massacre lyrics

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[cautious klay]
young immaculate. never know what is happenin’
always rappin havoc. i’m hoping to get the cabbage with
many come to me cause they’re hopin’ i’m where the ladder is
never been up top, but i know i can surp-ss who is
no one to follow. no need to ride slow
can’t seem to shake the hate away, living day to day
y’all threats are hollow. spittin’ verses ’til no one thinks i’m worthless
got them grabbin’ for the dollars out they’re pockets and purses
see my flows switch waves, diggin’ graves for ones who caught up
kickin’ it like fifa or kick you out like it’s sparta
we’re the ones who m-ssacre no games we just slaughter
’bout to run up in your house; you better watch for your daughter

[melrose]
no comparison; them n-ggas barely warm as luke
and i’ll father any n-gga. our father; say your prayers
i was praising maryjuana; f-ck a wooden pew
n-gga lifted like your honor, or your hands when spirit bombing
bury me in blunts; i was coughin’ before funeral
posted at the home depot, deflowerin’ garden tools
paintin’ bl–dy scenes; im teaching n-ggas the art
of arteries gettin’ departed as easy as rippin’ articles
a motherf-cker, so the hoes is yellin’ ‘daddy’s home.’
quick to k!ll the p-ssy; put the kitty in the catacombs
harder than a bag of bones. roamin’ with them savage n-ggas
out to take your cabbage; you’ll let us with no care at all
grade a b-tch; thats my only real accomplishment
keep a dirty ho; i just shower her with compliments
break hearts but never what exit pores
cause the effort that ends with less, im givin’; says less is more

[hologram]
it’s cautious and the
boys and there’s no sign; hear it through no vines
clear it in six seconds if you’re sniffin’ up my lines
written with smith blades ’til it’s red-y don’t switch page
brick page what? i’m prolly sinnin’ in ten ways
blimps lead me to stairways; and i stare since i can’t pay
the toll to death is cheaper; hood hoppin’ the h-ll’s gate
my coined phrases slept on; now charon just make wakes;
while i’m drummin’ on a boat, ask him how styx taste
holy water won’t shake me even as thick waves
evil as wrist slayin’. i’m a freak to the rick james
b-tch. rich ain’t me; get david to flip names
then let the parched hoes come; ion’t dig ’em i ditch dames
dash for a mitt, swing at my tongue when it pitch flames
lit lames and their lips chafed complainin’; this kid’s blamed
indentin’ indexes dextrous with quick aim;
i ain’t playin’ explained by your hanes with the sh-t stain



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