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killa season - lud foe lyrics

[intro : lud foe]
outwest 290 sh-t n-gg- you know how im rocking n-gg-
get your guns up get your funds up
you on that opp sh-t get mop stick b-tch straight gang sh-t
no hook lets get it

[verse 1: lud foe]
alotta n-gg-s breathing they shouldn’t be breathing my young n-gg-s k!ll for no reason
its the k!ller season call me cam’ron, pull up slam dunk sh-t call me lebron
i be on the hide out when the police come leave a f-ck n-gg- bl–dy he gon’ need a tampon
ian playing with no n-gg- no n-gg- no n-gg- x2
b-tch im creeping in your bushes with this mac on me
they g-ssed him up ima put that n-gg- back on e
hit the club mugged up b-tch im high off e
these stripper b-tches always tryna put that -ss on me
hit the mall and f-ck up all this cash on me
point me to the n-gg- say he gon’ smash on me
these f-ck n-gg-s fu, turnt they back fast on me
the police watching me they tryna put a flash on me (gang) these n-gg-s soft, b-tch im grinding like im tony hawk
we hit yo block, double back, all we see is chalk
these n-gg-s lie on them tracks all they do is talk
n-gg- better use your head before we knock it off
i get loose in this coupe b-tch my roof missing, ain’t no compet-tion n-gg-s snitching call em stoop pidgeons
these n-gg-s fu and they cool with it
somebody get whacked then we might have something to do with it
this street sh-t, b-tch im too in it
say you riding foreigns but im knowing that sh-t too rented
we do hits out the mini van windows too tinted
slide back that door ima shoot this b-tch for two minutes
free my n-gg-s out the jail cell until they free ima raise h-ll, h-ll yeah say it with your chest since you tough i put sh-lls there
i grew up in the slums we had [?] and welfare
gang banging on some foe sh-t ima rich n-gg- ion want no broke b-tch dressed in all black like im eazy e shout out to my jeweler got me looking like im mr. t
alotta n-gg-s breathing they shouldn’t be, one phone call have my youngins make him rest in peace
hungry n-gg- eat yo face then spit out yo teeth, ima dog on a b-tch walk up with a leash

[verse 2: lud foe]
cruising down the block in my big box chevy, feel like a baby on my shoulders cause my chain too heavy
f-ck a deal i go independent call me webbie
im sipping on this 1738 like fetty
i keep a hollow in the chamber b-tch im always ready
im always getting some money im about my fetty
b-tch you gon’ suck my d-ck or what doing all that frontin’ that p-ssy boy went bankrupt doing all that stunting
trapping like a fool so mechanic with a tool
snooze, get put on the news let this rap sh-t fool you
preacher man im the teacher man im gone school you remember being a broke n-gg- made me easy to lose a b-tch now im getting money and i love to confuse a b-tch
i make her work for me my daddy told me to use a
b-tch
think twice before you lose your life in this music sh-t
i get so much money i don’t know what to do with it
if you ain’t getting no money i can put you in tune with it
i sweep you off yo feet, b-tch this mac got a broom in it
catching bodies became a hobby i be shooting sh-t
find out where your house at then i send my goons in it
b-tch i been the hottest and i already proven it
water whip the bowl b-tch i put the spoon in it
can’t fit in my circle n-gg- it ain’t no room in it and i won’t hit the club if i can’t get my tool in it
b-tch im young rambo cooler on the tec doing hits out the lambo, limo you get stretched b-tch
ima young n-gg- f-cking vets, he get in that jam and confess
that p-ssy boy got put to rest
i just want the money you can keep the rest
went to jail knocked my celly off the bunk bed
doing all that sneak dissing b-tch we gon’ b-mp heads
we giuseppe’d up red bottoms are us got margielas i dont even wear bought em for what
n-gg-s dissing on my name cause i got some fame
i got perfect aim leave yo -ss in alotta pain
call my jeweler and i buy alotta chains remember i was broke as a joke hit alotta stains
i line a n-gg- up what i see alotta brains
smoking reefer like im wiz khalifa b-tch paper planes
we hit the club on some gang bang sh-t run a train on yo b-tch let my whole gang hit
n-gg-s tryna steal my sh-t everybody know i started that no hook sh-t
im in chiraq b-tch that’s as real as it get
where you gotta watch your back, tote a strap or you get hit
he gon’ need a sh-t bag when he sh-t
line a n-gg- -ss up and i didn’t miss

- lud foe lyrics

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