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glorious. - martin malota lyrics

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i’m not a k!ller, but i’ll fight with my hands and hand it to me
for k!lling everybody with this mic in my hand
i’m not a gangsta, but i’ll get that way, cause family’s first
get your faculty hurt, you would regret that day

i’m not a rapper, but i’ll rap about wrapping a fishing wire
around your neck til the skin breaks and you’re bleeding to death
i’m the epitome of 180, i turned it around, y’all learning
my sound is scorched earth, i’m burning the ground

i’ll take y’all fakes to the edge of the lake where i’ll cut you up
uppercut with a knife in my fist like “what the f-ck”
keep the blade facing out, until there’s blood on my hands
and vacant land. i’m making history, not making the band

y’all grab glocks in random spots? i plot this sh-t out
wake up beside the head of a horse – the hit is out
we in the south of michigan, we dirty enough…
i know surreños out in cali that’ll murder you up

i thought of ways to make you leave from this place, so take note
i’m a k!ller that hopes to stick a ball point right in to your throat
and it’s a waste…to see me with blanks
cause this is both life and death in a quote, i tote shanks

motherf-ckers done awakened the beast, you see the veins in my neck
you f-cking lames, you know i came for respect
this is the last time i want to explain, there’s never rain on a check
dotted line b-tch, name and the rest

driving a tank out the way to the plains
bust off a cannon at close range while bumping the intro to 40 days
in the rain, i pop out and i hop into frame
bayonet through your temple enter in to your brain

you think i’m sick? then see me on pad, or in the lab
sh-t is drawn out and mapped…stark raving mad
there’s method to the madness, i silence the lambs
stab your hype-man with the mic stand, put the mic in my hand

- martin malota lyrics

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