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jid - killers lyrics

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[verse 1]
i’m with a bunch of stupid n+ggas, did i stutter?
i don’t speak before i think so i means every letter
lil’ rat n+gga was hiding in the gutter
couldn’t find where he was at so we f+cked up his brother
someone must suffer for somethin’ dumb
this summer the sun bring out buns, the guns ring out funds
the feds the fuzz, shooting up the f+cking club
bunch a young n+ggas, sh+t
so to be or not to be a n+gga?
try to rise above the f+ck sh+t
i don’t know cause they could pull up at my door
talk coals and can’t call it dog holes
i don’t show hands lohan’s held
my land see more bands, my prayers answered
idle time is the place the devil dancing dark knight
f+ck a batman i’m gatman but robbin’ on sight
for a sack you could get sacrificed
but that’s some bad advice

[break]
christo
ahh sh+t!

[verse 2]
skrap it tight into your seat and take a trip with j.i.d
better get yo ass up off yo ass
i told yo ass “it’s time to eat!”
clean the bag and pack the bags, roll the weed
take a shot cause i can’t drink
because i’m driving trippin’ through my mind
had some time to think about the time
blurred vision couldn’t see the sign and beneath the lies
and from my youth i’ve seen the truth will come and demonize
realize that everybody blind but tryna lead the blind
eyes on god gathering minds til’ we redefine
reminded refine wood plottin’ formaldehyde
gentrifying my hood my juug tryna galvanize, good!
my mama got this sh+t up out the mud
my sister had the baby with the plug
my pops was in the 80’s off the drugs with a .38 slug
maybe yo daddy push the pack and had the strap in yo hood
my family black as f+ck and black is love
i’ve been back to black it ain’t no good for me
but better than it could be, i’m stupid as f+ck
but all my n+ggas stupider
my shooter could pull out a ruger for your arugula
irregular triggering thoughts
out the blue, red lights on fl!ckering off
check the mirror and move! gun shots just a spiritual tune
on some nights n+ggas is bored they ain’t got nothin’ to do
no opportunity community centers for after school, you can cool that
f+ck it they goonin’, grab a tool my n+gga move that
f+ck is you doin’ let him cook it on the spoon, now he spoon+fed
dope fiends howling at the moon from ballon bags



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