shyheim - ya not no killa lyrics
[intro: bars]
just yesterday i was born again
everyday when i wake up, i’m born over
[bars]
one for the money, two for the cash
three for riker’s island, who need weed bag stash
seen dope fiends throw up, sh-tty weed bags, it’s madness
coppers perpetrayin’ the fort, crackers wanna kill n-gg-z
triggers get handed to n-gg-z, with no cases
i guess i’d have a gun, if i was safer
never hate us, come in dreams, when i be sleepin’
makin’ me wake up, with cold sweats, it’s no threat
imaginary gunshot to the head
but i be happy, when i don’t wake up dead
i’m just on point, do what y’all might do
even though that ain’t like you
you ain’t no killa, n-gg-, my type 2
pencil will carve a name in a check
that’ll get your -ss gensu, in two
[chorus: v12]
you not no killa, and everybody knows you not
you not no killa, no, no, you ain’t
killa, you not, you know you not, you not, a killa
you not no killa, no, oh no
[v12]
big guns try to approach, but need one
don’t force me to pump you and your soldiers, your close breath
free throws, like b-tches, keep babies, it might seem
crazy, how i’d rap and sing, it’s truly amazing
i spend nights and a days, with a bad b-tch from beijing
and them cops keep hating, i’m answer my floor
but at the same time, get off these hammers, increasin’ my throat
call me v-twizzy, more tenor, b-tch, cuz you the dumb one
look, tony, not to get hit from the blind side
b-tches, cling rider, whoever, dun, it’s y’all time
and everybody knows your not
[hooks]
i’m that good guy, hood fly, dubbies on an s
six double no, bling, hangin’ off my neck
bang tattered on my waist, i ain’t go no problems
but that ratchet can’t be safe
just in case, i gotta put a b-st-rd in his place
cuz i ain’t been dead nothing
i showed a love i have, and did my life thuggin’
youngin’ from the 41st side of the hood
mix a twenty sacks of haze, with a sack of that wood
cuz i get high, like i get money and hoes
i done came up, and still be runnin’ the same codes
and i move crowds, air you out
n-gg-z round the hood said b-n-h got the juice now
new now n laterz, we back, you w-nksta
q.b., 41st side, b.a. gangstas
got it locked, you ain’t a killer, never buck a shot, n-gg-
stock boy, you too cold to be a hot boy
[chorus]
[shyheim]
some actin’ cuckoo like he just flew over a nest
like y’all give a f-ck how much weight he bench
shyheim, my government and my attribute
big left me a tech a nine, at my cribs
so give me the loot, or lbc it like snoop
i’m out to get coof again, coof again, coupe
turn up the thermostat, i beat a murder rap
i’m about to bring it back, in the name of crack
in the name of dope, slidin’ through your hood
on a diamondback, with spokes
big boy toys, underneath the smoke of c-ke
y’all motherf-ckers must think i’mma joke
i smack n-gg-z like you, and tell ’em, go get your guns
as far as i’m concerned, y’all can suck d-ck and swallow c-m
i’m god son, the rose of salvation
product of the ghetto, i’m the streets creation
i move like vampires, only at night
hand grip like plyers, on the block with rapid fire
goin’ hay wire, i stab a n-gg- til my arm gets tired
about to retire.
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