intro / kill em - lil jack lyrics
[lil jack talking]
yeah, beast mode n-gga
shouts out to my manson n-ggas
shouts out to all the fans
shouts out to you hatin’ -ss n-ggas
… supportin’ this sh-t, stayin’ down
be on the lookout for the volume 2, up next
ain’t gon’ stop, let’s k!ll these motherf-ckers
[intro verse] 4x
k!ll ’em, we k!ll ’em, may let loose some shots
i leave brains on the ceiling, i’m ’bout to go nuts
turn you into a victim, mentally disturbed
my trigger finger itchin’, they say i’m insane
i’m insane, i’m in love with cocaine
bulletproof my sh-t, jack a b-tch, manson the game
i be losin’ my mind and … on you close range and bang
[verse 1]
f-ck a murder charge with yo lawyer charge
b-tch i go so hard … bars
we gon’ get you my n-gga, pistol whip and split you my n-gga
body bag and (?) my n-gga
garbage men will zip you we give you that issue
ridin’ with that (?) higher than a b-tch
i bet you that b-tch smoke you and your b-tch
i pop … ain’t no stoppin’ these manson type k!llings
cut off yo body parts, lock you off in the trunk
up with that rent-a-car (?) like …
we do crazy seances off in (?)
i turn you into a skeleton
bury you n-ggas alive for them benjamins
k!llin’ ’em, cocaine increase my adrenaline
ladies and gentlemen bang bang
[intro verse] 2x
k!ll ’em, we k!ll ’em, may let loose some shots
i leave brains on the ceiling, i’m ’bout to go nuts
turn you into a victim, mentally disturbed
my trigger finger itchin’, they say i’m insane
i’m insane, i’m in love with cocaine
bulletproof my sh-t, jack a b-tch, manson the game
i be losin’ my mind and … on you close range and bang
[verse 2]
i’m pimpin’ b-tches and pistol whippin’ n-ggas
maybe i’m trippin’, i (?) k!lla
my intuition tellin’ me to bust ’em
half of ’em scared, half of ’em bluffin’
i’m breakin’ discussion (?) torture
f-ckin’ with jack (?) atrocities
(?) wanna murder me
(?) face down in a quarter key
russian ak with that kickstand
… knock off yo head man
i turn you into a dead man
… shots while yo kids playin’
man you n-ggas are playin’ crazy
snort a couple grams pre–ss-ssination
ball through yo hood with yo head in the trunk
pullin’ up drunk, blastin’ that pump
loose up your neck like a (?)
my n-ggas yellin’ out “manson!”
bashin’ yo head beyond recognition
my n-ggas leavin’ you n-ggas missin’
hope you n-ggas got ammunition
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