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killshit - eminel lyrics

this is a personal message for mr. florian liebold. or should we say mr. florian lie-bald?

florian just hit me on a text
last night i stole hair from his head
wait, he had hair? i’m perplexed
actually, i’m pretty sure there wasn’t any left! d-mn

you sound like you have a heart attack
when playing basketball and getting wrecked
realized you look like shrek
no hair on your head but too much on your back!

flo, flo, bro
listen, man, we aren’t mad
but, how you gonna name yourself after having flow
and still mumble slow?

florian smokes, eyes closed, undeniable
aurora grows, why let your shares go?
see you investing in cobalt, are you crazy?
such a bad idea, must been hazy

your band got the crowd yelling, „boo!“
so before you sing, let’s see who can escape the room
with my zombie hand („f-ck, schmeiß sie weg“) – ja, florian, gut
yeah, it’s my fault but i’m still smarter than you!

by 34, dad had one son that he screwed
now let’s talk about somethin’ i don’t really do
rap on someone’s birthday ruinin’ the mood
but you f-cking deserve it
now i’ma serve the desert to you, woo!

flo, chill, actin’ like you didn’t put the beard trend to its near end
hipster? b-tch, you are a weird man
hoped you’d go to sp-ce in a starship, no coming back
seeing red, now you start to chase the bull, sh-t

are you eating schokopops or oatmeal?
how much did you eat, wie viel? 4 oder 5 schüsseln?
denn jetzt musst du kotzen, florian, und ein’ abseil’n
…reinhold messner…

„yo, flo, your last five singles sucked
go back to popsacks,“ oh shoot, that was 17 years ago
what do you know? oops
know dad’s age before you sing about it, lil’ goof

opel adam, oh, you broke, b-tch? yeah, i had enough porsches in our crew
to overtake you, ho
older me? no, you the bald me, it’s funny but so true
i’d rather be 9-year-old me than almost 40-year-old you

til i’m hitting bald age
i’ll be going rampage to f-cking get you enraged
now you know amsterdam is our city, lil’ kiddy, go play
and now let us show you da way

got the daddy to pay so you spent your young days
getting f-cking punk hair now you need a toupee
beat you at your own game, i’m the hairy goat
you ain’t never made a list next to no gottschalk, no cher
next to dwayne the rock and that caillou ho, you about to really blow
florian, they’ll be putting your name
next to gerst, next to scott kelly – fly, motherf-cker!
be the last motherf-cker going bald hair to sp-ce

stay there and waste, you piece of sh-t
my worst grades were your greatest hits
even with coco you’re still the biggest p-ssy in town
so before i end this diss i, mwah, give her a kiss

gotta wake up on your day to this (you suck!)
bein’ b-tch-named by some kids using your name to debate
the growth rate of spliss cause i saw his godd-mn hair
which only grows back rare
ly, b-tch, pop champagne to this! [pop]

it’s your moment
this is it, as bald as you’re gonna get, so enjoy it
had to grow a little hair to destroy it

hair transplantation
which is free in your dreams, i’ll give you an idea which is better
you just need a pact with the devil
you look up to me, and for the record
you would suck a d-ck to f-cking have hair for a second

lick a b-llsack to become successful
give your life to start being qualified
this mothaf-ckin’ sh-t is like rambo when he’s out of bullets
so what good is a f-ckin’ engineer when he’s out of money?

had enough of this ugly–ss mumble singer
why the f-ck do him and we battle?
he’ll have to stick to his level
i’ll give him my candle
cause he knows, as long as we’re here he’s gon have to live in our shadow

exhausting, getting off to some weird things
like a satellite, b-tch, deorbit
stop growing a beard to compensate sh-t, we can all see
you’re f-ckin’ salty
cause your gene’s are faulty making you a baldy!

too much pressure, you bed wetter
when we enter you feel terror
the last measure is vendetta

no it’s not over, d-ck
he’s thirty-five but his mind has never been quick

thanks for leaving us
now we had an excuse on the mic to write k!llsh-t right
but really i don’t care if you will like
when we go in to fight you pr-ck

what else you want? cells – hair growth fails! we can tell
must be h-ll as often and rotten as your mouth smells

k!llsh-t, i will not fail, i’m with the dad still
but this idiot’s boss pops pills and tells him he’s got sk!lls
but, flo, the day you grow hair’s the day esa admits
that they’re too stupid to let the mars-lander touch down, ah

i’m sick of you bein’ bald
and still usin’ that mothaf-ckin’ razor blade
so let’s talk about it (let’s talk about it)

i’m sick of you brainstorming
will you get some real plans? doubt it
so we can’t even talk about it (talk about it)

i’m sick of you forgetting my feelings
just cause you look at the wichtel note and think
that you need momma’s gift (momma’s gift)

it’s time for a rest like cops catching thugs
you’ve done your best – but you still suck

you bald’ – oh
and we’re just playing florian, you know we love you!

- eminel lyrics

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