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killer mike - butane (champion's anthem) lyrics

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[verse 1: k!ller mike]
(yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
looking for the truth, yeah it’s me
everything polo to the floor though, even at the grocery store though
picture perfect, take a photo, and take the pic you biting b-tch
and go and st-tch a logo (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
hit you with the quatro, but my girl mercedes
with the audi say that quatro was a two door so a typo
you can put on k!ller k!ll, fat boy, or just michael
call me what you want but still never call me rival
they will call you dead and i will call you gone
the lord, sweet jesus, will be weeping calling your -ss home
if underground rap royalty is what i’m meant to be
then i will be the sh-t and you ain’t sh-t to me

[hook]
we the ones, we the winners, we the champions
champagne at the end of our campaign
spit fire, naked truth like the blue flame
like the blue flame (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
let me see your hands up if you do the same
caught the plug and we bolt like usain
more money, more power, more butane
burn the motherf-cker down, down

[verse 2: k!ller mike]
life’s a b-tch so i mack on her immaculate
i don’t wear no monkey watches, rolex is too accurate
my rhymes are actually accurate, meaning i don’t fiction in my diction
to the m-sses, this perfection is performed through many practices
like prost-tutes on mattresses, this sh-t just come naturally
easy as osama’s bombers takin many casualties
like columbine i’m down for mine i’m here to k!ll the faculty
k!llin them or k!llin me, this is my soliloquy
iller than the illest beat, i will spit the illest sh-t
from right here to infinity, till i reach the dirt
i will search the earth endlessly looking for the illest, see
ain’t n0body lyrically as ill as me, ‘less eazy-e
come back from a.i.d…s yes
get a beat from e-l-p, ghostwritten from my partner t.i.p
cube and me and we time travel back to ’95
jumping in a ’63 impala playing cuban linx

[hook]
yo mike they f-cked up putting us together man

[verse 3: el-p]
yo, i’m a grinch with a grin, i will sh-t on your kids
get a life, get a grip, get a hold on my d-ck, b-tch, make a wish
i’m a knife, i’m nothing-that’s-nicer-than-getting-sliced-up
the switch, the machete, the feti yeti, the shyster
icer, getting-closer-to-christ ya
might just find that the design of your life is an angel hair short of divine love
i stink, i just stuck up a truck that said brinks
i’m a sphinx, snorted so much that my nose just broke off, think
i’m alone again, clutching a loaded glock soaked in chromium
hoping that the thought police just don’t bust in my home again
life is tough, you’ll get snuffed in the buff
so dystopian, ruff ruff, hear the call of the copper mutts on the hunt
what the f-ck, this is not what my mother said i’ll become
star-spangler wranglers got my hopes on the run
getting closer now, maybe our society’s supposed to drown
middle fingers up on the t-tanic as it’s going down

[hook]



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