Originally Posted by
KingShyt
killer instinct like spinal, ill slap a sixteen to vinyl
my distinct style deletes rivals, like incomplete files
beating trials 'n cheating final tests.. recitals of death
sightin rifles to chests..ya final breath.. wife and a child left
fatherless, cuz if ya bother this ill feed u blotter hits
tie you down til knots are fixed 'n torture you with water drips
forcing back your femur til it pops n splits across your hips
hope you got a cross to kiss you pompous prick! NOW talk sum shit
what, ya cant even stand, your postures shit, need a hand
layin' there like a bleeding lamb thrown out to feed the damned
man i aint playin, im the face of satan.. aint savin no maidens
im jus makin sure when im sprayin' that im aimin with patience
watchin my prey thru surveilance optics..ya drop as a shot licks
pop shit out a thirty-ought six, wutcha got in them pockets?
loose change or a new chain.. really, could give a fuck less
you let your luck stretch, fuck vests.. ill cut the fuck out ya neck
rockin locs, step away as im carvin throats, pardon folks
or ill pick you apart like artichokes with flows hard as oak
dont lose me now, my fluid sound jus smokes these dudes around
its like they new to town, dont make me put these fuckin boots to crowns