Killing Fieldz Lyrics
| Song | Killing Fieldz |
| Artist | Gravediggaz |
| Album | Nightmare in A-Minor |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Berkeley, Hamilton | |
| No more dead end streets | |
| Gravediggaz, dark angels | |
| Appearin out the fog | |
| Reappearin every millenium | |
| Frukwan, the Gate Keep, sun star | |
| Hit it up, ya | |
| [Chorus: Frukwan] | |
| How many's willin, ready for the war | |
| Permit the killin, what if it's ya own | |
| That's the villain, what do you do? Do you kill 'em? | |
| [Frukwan] | |
| Created from a cumulus, cause that are numerous | |
| Dangerous combattin, when I kill, it's no accident | |
| Punch hole thru your abdomen, pluck your vein instrument | |
| Prevent, my thought waves travel infinite | |
| Periodically I generate, natural intake | |
| 7 and a half ounce brain, 5% body weight | |
| Repititious, the bishop, he only enter the vicious | |
| Sleepin wit yo misses, tappin that ass vicious | |
| Squeeze time, a pressure ya muthafuckas couldn't measure | |
| The dead body severed, fingers are dismembered | |
| Hair foliculs, point of rap, wrapped in iodine | |
| Wrapped in a heat, body found upon the ground of Egypt | |
| Jamaica, that on to make a Earth shaker | |
| Natural disaster, hemipheric master | |
| Master crater size hole, niggas that wanna fold | |
| Blow, transport threatin ya fuckin life support | |
| Petrolium niggas up on the Potium | |
| Figure, how many niggas run wit Gravediggaz, nigga! | |
| [Break: Poetic] | |
| Yo, next up | |
| Grym Reap, Poetic, Tony titanium | |
| [Poetic] | |
| Criminal record, never had one, never made none | |
| Never grab guns and blaze them just for fun | |
| I'm military trained, not considered very fiend | |
| Not to kill up every frame within the skill of my brain | |
| When I peep certain cats on the block, I know they plot | |
| How to get what I got, cuz we travel alot | |
| Doin hip hop in spots that get hot | |
| They figure we get knots, a few bad apples'll lick shots | |
| And shit stops, the Most High | |
| Deprive human life out of his gift shop | |
| Thirty four years up on the brick top | |
| Tryin to survive, it's as wild as elephant's stampede | |
| To see, fans leave as someone in the audience, clans bleed | |
| They can't breath, after the next man squeeze | |
| And this girl is like "Please" | |
| Someone, get a parademic, the ghetto drama's pathetic | |
| More black armor shredded, I need peace | |
| Peace of mind, peace and quiet, piece of the pie | |
| Piece of the action, to acquire | |
| A nice piece of real estate when I need escape | |
| A pen and a piece of paper, to plot my next caper | |
| Up in the safe havin, smokin peace pipes | |
| As peeps try the peace treaty | |
| And we be usin the Sun as a time piece | |
| Dime pieces in two piece bikinis | |
| That give me a piece of ass, whenever they see me | |
| What the dealy? Behind the whole plot | |
| As I carry a piece to protect my flock | |
| Can't throw rocks while enemies toke glocks | |
| The human and the low brain lock, and we go into shock | |
| [Chorus x3] | |
| [Nas: scratched up] "My mic check is life or death" [x6] | |
| [Nas] "My mic check is life or death, breathin the sniper's breath" |
| zuo ci : Berkeley, Hamilton | |
| No more dead end streets | |
| Gravediggaz, dark angels | |
| Appearin out the fog | |
| Reappearin every millenium | |
| Frukwan, the Gate Keep, sun star | |
| Hit it up, ya | |
| Chorus: Frukwan | |
| How many' s willin, ready for the war | |
| Permit the killin, what if it' s ya own | |
| That' s the villain, what do you do? Do you kill ' em? | |
| Frukwan | |
| Created from a cumulus, cause that are numerous | |
| Dangerous combattin, when I kill, it' s no accident | |
| Punch hole thru your abdomen, pluck your vein instrument | |
| Prevent, my thought waves travel infinite | |
| Periodically I generate, natural intake | |
| 7 and a half ounce brain, 5 body weight | |
| Repititious, the bishop, he only enter the vicious | |
| Sleepin wit yo misses, tappin that ass vicious | |
| Squeeze time, a pressure ya muthafuckas couldn' t measure | |
| The dead body severed, fingers are dismembered | |
| Hair foliculs, point of rap, wrapped in iodine | |
| Wrapped in a heat, body found upon the ground of Egypt | |
| Jamaica, that on to make a Earth shaker | |
| Natural disaster, hemipheric master | |
| Master crater size hole, niggas that wanna fold | |
| Blow, transport threatin ya fuckin life support | |
| Petrolium niggas up on the Potium | |
| Figure, how many niggas run wit Gravediggaz, nigga! | |
| Break: Poetic | |
| Yo, next up | |
| Grym Reap, Poetic, Tony titanium | |
| Poetic | |
| Criminal record, never had one, never made none | |
| Never grab guns and blaze them just for fun | |
| I' m military trained, not considered very fiend | |
| Not to kill up every frame within the skill of my brain | |
| When I peep certain cats on the block, I know they plot | |
| How to get what I got, cuz we travel alot | |
| Doin hip hop in spots that get hot | |
| They figure we get knots, a few bad apples' ll lick shots | |
| And shit stops, the Most High | |
| Deprive human life out of his gift shop | |
| Thirty four years up on the brick top | |
| Tryin to survive, it' s as wild as elephant' s stampede | |
| To see, fans leave as someone in the audience, clans bleed | |
| They can' t breath, after the next man squeeze | |
| And this girl is like " Please" | |
| Someone, get a parademic, the ghetto drama' s pathetic | |
| More black armor shredded, I need peace | |
| Peace of mind, peace and quiet, piece of the pie | |
| Piece of the action, to acquire | |
| A nice piece of real estate when I need escape | |
| A pen and a piece of paper, to plot my next caper | |
| Up in the safe havin, smokin peace pipes | |
| As peeps try the peace treaty | |
| And we be usin the Sun as a time piece | |
| Dime pieces in two piece bikinis | |
| That give me a piece of ass, whenever they see me | |
| What the dealy? Behind the whole plot | |
| As I carry a piece to protect my flock | |
| Can' t throw rocks while enemies toke glocks | |
| The human and the low brain lock, and we go into shock | |
| Chorus x3 | |
| Nas: scratched up " My mic check is life or death" x6 | |
| Nas " My mic check is life or death, breathin the sniper' s breath" |
| zuò cí : Berkeley, Hamilton | |
| No more dead end streets | |
| Gravediggaz, dark angels | |
| Appearin out the fog | |
| Reappearin every millenium | |
| Frukwan, the Gate Keep, sun star | |
| Hit it up, ya | |
| Chorus: Frukwan | |
| How many' s willin, ready for the war | |
| Permit the killin, what if it' s ya own | |
| That' s the villain, what do you do? Do you kill ' em? | |
| Frukwan | |
| Created from a cumulus, cause that are numerous | |
| Dangerous combattin, when I kill, it' s no accident | |
| Punch hole thru your abdomen, pluck your vein instrument | |
| Prevent, my thought waves travel infinite | |
| Periodically I generate, natural intake | |
| 7 and a half ounce brain, 5 body weight | |
| Repititious, the bishop, he only enter the vicious | |
| Sleepin wit yo misses, tappin that ass vicious | |
| Squeeze time, a pressure ya muthafuckas couldn' t measure | |
| The dead body severed, fingers are dismembered | |
| Hair foliculs, point of rap, wrapped in iodine | |
| Wrapped in a heat, body found upon the ground of Egypt | |
| Jamaica, that on to make a Earth shaker | |
| Natural disaster, hemipheric master | |
| Master crater size hole, niggas that wanna fold | |
| Blow, transport threatin ya fuckin life support | |
| Petrolium niggas up on the Potium | |
| Figure, how many niggas run wit Gravediggaz, nigga! | |
| Break: Poetic | |
| Yo, next up | |
| Grym Reap, Poetic, Tony titanium | |
| Poetic | |
| Criminal record, never had one, never made none | |
| Never grab guns and blaze them just for fun | |
| I' m military trained, not considered very fiend | |
| Not to kill up every frame within the skill of my brain | |
| When I peep certain cats on the block, I know they plot | |
| How to get what I got, cuz we travel alot | |
| Doin hip hop in spots that get hot | |
| They figure we get knots, a few bad apples' ll lick shots | |
| And shit stops, the Most High | |
| Deprive human life out of his gift shop | |
| Thirty four years up on the brick top | |
| Tryin to survive, it' s as wild as elephant' s stampede | |
| To see, fans leave as someone in the audience, clans bleed | |
| They can' t breath, after the next man squeeze | |
| And this girl is like " Please" | |
| Someone, get a parademic, the ghetto drama' s pathetic | |
| More black armor shredded, I need peace | |
| Peace of mind, peace and quiet, piece of the pie | |
| Piece of the action, to acquire | |
| A nice piece of real estate when I need escape | |
| A pen and a piece of paper, to plot my next caper | |
| Up in the safe havin, smokin peace pipes | |
| As peeps try the peace treaty | |
| And we be usin the Sun as a time piece | |
| Dime pieces in two piece bikinis | |
| That give me a piece of ass, whenever they see me | |
| What the dealy? Behind the whole plot | |
| As I carry a piece to protect my flock | |
| Can' t throw rocks while enemies toke glocks | |
| The human and the low brain lock, and we go into shock | |
| Chorus x3 | |
| Nas: scratched up " My mic check is life or death" x6 | |
| Nas " My mic check is life or death, breathin the sniper' s breath" |
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