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Lloyd Banks - Serial Killa (Freestyle) Lyrics

Six million ways to die
Chose one!

Someone whip their feelings up
Still don't give a fuck, fuck my enemies
Get spars, collapse ceilings, uh
U Crash for pass, too fast
Look like I'm pickin' on 'em
You rich, you lyin', who laugh?
You need a witness fallin'
Crow forget the coward switch this morning
Jumpin' out the window, pink the ground
Gangsta clip recording
Take a bow, 30 inch styles
I wrote the shit that tote 'em
Fake smiles, vertebrate fowls
Homie, the quick imported
You either sick or snorting
I'm the smoothest, slickest
Chose ridiculous
Coolest public figure talking
My homie got his handle up between the crack dials
Now he looked at Hennessy and ova Mac while
You posed to be rhyming, bruh? Or a photographer?
Yo buzz got a silencer, release the challenges
I rallied out the bottom, problem
Since I heard this album
Rather spearhead the asylum
Need my commas, in columns
RIP to gangstas watching my latest project
Write two rages chopped in solo army
Muzzle names poppin'
Helicopter glitch storms
Fanella coppin' big blunts
Foo-doo by 22 times, they took up pig ones
Bro, you been at it six months
Yo audio's the poor-e-ish
Yo boyish school a mortar
Auditorium's for all the ears
Victorious, they call me this
Yo future's eminent, no Crowley diamonds on yo wrist
You got me one I hardly miss
I can't stand the heater
You mad I made a sack house
Got Diesel like I'm juicing
Pays like a frat house
3 days I be backed out
These days you can't slack off
Replays when I track hard
These deejays bring it back, uh
Ready on my next necklace, and drippin' wet sexes
Every time I pick up the phone, that intellect stretches
The internet threads piss, betta remove yo name and
I'm mad the booth is caving, I'm turning soot to singin'
Million dolla view, complainin'
You got too used to hangin'
100 miles an hour the cash
This ink the truth a-flaming
Loosing out on heroin, you're drunk and get the last batch
Nigga, this is blood spoon, punches with the glass rack
You ain't get the memo, probably not a lead
I'm the bombing street riddle, I'm the weak bidder
Yo, elite nigga

(Interlude: Doggpound Crew)
Suicide, it's a suicide
Suicide, it's a suicide
Suicide, it's a suicide
Now tell me, what's my muthafuckin' name!
Serial Killa
Serial Killa
Serial Killa
(Wake up in the morning, to Lucky Charms cereal)

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