m.wade – killuminati (tribute p.e) lyrics
[intro:m.wade]
r.i.p st–z, and s/o p.e
take over
[verse 1:m.wade]
too much cheese make a n-gga go lactose
say your burning bread but you motherf-ckers lack toast
middle of march so you know i’m with some black folks
choose our own battles we just tryna keep the peace though
screw a politician, i’d rather see em all choke
you should bet on me
it’s your best vote
with enough revenue to buy the whole east coast
spit c-notes to spend c-notes
and it shows, that i get green like cee-lo
a dope flow, addicted to this joint like weed smoke
so we go, as far as we need to
magneto–where fiends blow
hailing from pa get my keystone
y’all joking, know nothing bout them dollar bills
y’all popping tokens
cops think we f-ggots in a bed full of roses
tryna send us to jail where n-ggas spread you like they moses
that sh-t they never tell you
tell us to all stay in school then they expel you
so what the h-ll am i do
if anything’s possible
i’mma turn this whole rap game to my only obstacle
i just think of what my life could be
and in the name of all honesty
ain’t a n-gga in the game living off a prophecy
if your mob’s in deep sh-t you better call prodigy
i say what i feel, now you feel the animosity
n-gga
[verse 2:capital st–z]
soul searchin’ ’till my flows are perfect
i ain’t trynna be a slave to grow old from workin’
sorry bada$$, you lucky that i peeped it second
tell them n-ggas keep it steppin’ with they beat selection
check the melodies, it’s so heavenly
that sh-t’ll get your hips to move no 70’s
audi-opium, can i bust soliloquies
got that sh-t mix and mastered both remedies
grab a spoonful, we sturrin’ up a pot
and you know we gotta serve it while it’s hot
i’m flowin’ like a volcano and drippin’ verses off the top
dirty cops still swervin’ on the block
lookin’ for black kids, that spittin’ up acid
it’s in my jeans so don’t worry where my parents is
get with the script it’s that ignorant sh-t
and they bound to get sick of us quick but i ain’t sealin’ my lips
it’s a shift, i know you feel it man
we blowin’ up like a ceiling fan
droppin’ off jewels like k!lla cam’s man
when it comes to kickin’ verses i’m mr. van damme
crushin’ strawberries it’s a jam
so throw up both hands if you can
ironic how i’m k!llin’ this sh-t, until they bury me
my volume is going in depth with longevity
stupids
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