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Styles P - Mansion Murder (Remix) Lyrics

Believe me, if I started murdering people
There’d be none of you left

Basically hit you with the hard nigga recipe
Fuck you, if you ain’t with me, you’re next to me
Fuck you
I ain’t one for the small talk
Goes to get it in it like Nucky on Boardwalk
Real grinding nigga though, I’mma let the four talk
You ain’t got to hear me, dog, you could hear the lower talk
Uzzi at the place when the shorty blow the doors off
Free my dollar bills and killing niggas that they kid me
Nothing on your bitch face, rain is in the sick place
Maybe it’s the wax or the fact that I’m shit phased
Rap spelled backwards is par, you ain’t up to that
If your shit sound whack, I had enough of that
Fuck ‘em all from the bottom to the top
If you left it up to me, yeah, all of ‘em be shot
A bull’s eye on the forehead
Fuck whack rappers, leave ‘em all dead

Why do you wanna call me a murderer for?
I’ve never killed anyone
I don’t need to kill anyone
I think it

Voices in the attic, bodies in the basement
People under the stairs hold my guns and chasing
When I buy a brick I bring the best set to taste it
Zombies out here, yeah, this shit is like a wasteland
I don’t give a fuck about no goddamn bath salts
P91 to blow half of your mass off
Face all over the asphalt
No track down here but whips, it’s like NASCAR
Weed in the glass jar, shot ‘em in the head ‘cause the trash words
Then I got ghosts like Casper
No, I get ghosts like myself
If I rap like you I put the toast to myself
I shit on you, you mic booth in your board
Why don’t you find a bridge and bungee with no chord?
Or build yourself a pool full of swords
Dive in it, next time you rhyme put your mind in it

Maybe I should’ve killed 4, 500 people
Then I would’ve felt better

The healthiest nigga in New York, smoking Newports
I’m not a new boss, I’m in the new Porsche
My Nike sneakers they be my like sneakers
Jogging on the beach with my wife beaters
Word to Obama mama, Jeffrey Dammer drama
Swiss got keys, pianos and Alicia
When I be talking keys I’m talking coke and the Keisha
I know chicks that swallow cum and they still suck it
Miscarriage hoes, fowl ‘cause they still fucking
You know the deal, they don’t even wait to heal
My booster bitches, they can’t even wait to steal
My favorite sex position is the 69
I fuck her 6 while holding my 9
Amsterdam, stuff blunts, call ‘em sumos
Walking out the walk with a veggie meal, you know
Kick your feet up like weed up, show your speed up

It’s the killing spree, lyrically deceive your infantry
Listening to me gets rappers killed like demon frequencies
Sympathy, it’s never felt like infants hitting me
I’m spending all that fire, all y’all niggas smell like hickory
And chard wood and I’ve been talking with giants
Walking with lions, went straight to hell and formed an alliance
Scorching the highest highness ‘cause they ain’t chosen like I am
Spitting all this hard shit, my tongue should morph into diamonds
Coated in iron, enforced with the thoughts of the dying
Man, I wish you had it to realize you’re far from flying
Fuck you Icarus, lyricist floating, we’re watching trees
I put that infinite, limitless soul, I’m dragging with
Don’t test my greatness, sadists and caters will scorch the pages
If you read between the lines you’ll find higher minds than the sagest
Might realize more detail than entail the craft and the David
I am not a fucking rapper, I speak and happen to make hits
 

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