Song | Kalashnikov Guns |
Artist | The Alchemist |
Artist | Guilty Simpson |
Album | Russian Roulette |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
A demonstration of who the best is, | |
Stress is when | |
I afflict your death wish, | |
Check this before | |
I check you | |
And tell you what the rest knew already | |
We get it heavy, money bad, | |
The crack or axe roll on your | |
Chevy. Get ready, prepare for the truth, | |
I double dare one to double cross me, | |
Play booth, you can’t flip to suit, | |
You run them down, blindfold ‘em, line ‘em up, | |
Gun them down, even when | |
I fuck around | |
I don’t fuck around. | |
My life work can leave your life curb, | |
Smell a perfect trait, yeah, | |
I smell like perp | |
Dirt, do your dirty and give it back to earth | |
For what is worth find another turf. | |
Before you work, learn the hustle, first | |
Cut them off with a hunger thirst. | |
I drink in here ‘till | |
I’m full, the raging bull, | |
Too much births and yeah, | |
I’m full. | |
Aiming at the chess play, call it lay it face, | |
You get cramps when the brea brakes | |
I get big chunks, raw chunks, | |
You’ll get found in the deep slump | |
You ran it out of throw, real face, | |
I pump your brakes, see you at the wait, nigger. |
A demonstration of who the best is, | |
Stress is when | |
I afflict your death wish, | |
Check this before | |
I check you | |
And tell you what the rest knew already | |
We get it heavy, money bad, | |
The crack or axe roll on your | |
Chevy. Get ready, prepare for the truth, | |
I double dare one to double cross me, | |
Play booth, you can' t flip to suit, | |
You run them down, blindfold ' em, line ' em up, | |
Gun them down, even when | |
I fuck around | |
I don' t fuck around. | |
My life work can leave your life curb, | |
Smell a perfect trait, yeah, | |
I smell like perp | |
Dirt, do your dirty and give it back to earth | |
For what is worth find another turf. | |
Before you work, learn the hustle, first | |
Cut them off with a hunger thirst. | |
I drink in here ' till | |
I' m full, the raging bull, | |
Too much births and yeah, | |
I' m full. | |
Aiming at the chess play, call it lay it face, | |
You get cramps when the brea brakes | |
I get big chunks, raw chunks, | |
You' ll get found in the deep slump | |
You ran it out of throw, real face, | |
I pump your brakes, see you at the wait, nigger. |
A demonstration of who the best is, | |
Stress is when | |
I afflict your death wish, | |
Check this before | |
I check you | |
And tell you what the rest knew already | |
We get it heavy, money bad, | |
The crack or axe roll on your | |
Chevy. Get ready, prepare for the truth, | |
I double dare one to double cross me, | |
Play booth, you can' t flip to suit, | |
You run them down, blindfold ' em, line ' em up, | |
Gun them down, even when | |
I fuck around | |
I don' t fuck around. | |
My life work can leave your life curb, | |
Smell a perfect trait, yeah, | |
I smell like perp | |
Dirt, do your dirty and give it back to earth | |
For what is worth find another turf. | |
Before you work, learn the hustle, first | |
Cut them off with a hunger thirst. | |
I drink in here ' till | |
I' m full, the raging bull, | |
Too much births and yeah, | |
I' m full. | |
Aiming at the chess play, call it lay it face, | |
You get cramps when the brea brakes | |
I get big chunks, raw chunks, | |
You' ll get found in the deep slump | |
You ran it out of throw, real face, | |
I pump your brakes, see you at the wait, nigger. |