Jim Jones - I'm A Killa lyrics
rate meft. Charlie Rock, Trav & Sen City
Gripped up, I'm ready, black car, no limit, ham talk, let’s get it
All my niggas authentic, ham talking, we live it
Ham talking, we live it
Gripped out, I’m ready, black car, no limit, ham talking, let’s get it
All my niggas authentic, ham talking, we live it
Ham talking, we live it
Nigga, I’m a killa, homicide all on my face
Gun all on my waist
Down to catch a new case from my hitter
Staying down away for my boss
Scream “fuck the law!”
Give a round of applause
I’m a killa
That murder, murder, that 187
That murder, murder, that 187
When the trucks pull up and nowhere to hide
That murder, murder, that homicide
Ain’t nothing changed, still jumping out the coupe
You can scratch that, you can bring it back, I’m jumping off the roof
She riding, shorty, you fuck around, you jumping out to shoot
This money aiming, if you niggas thought that I was out the loop
See me where I’m at, leave me where you at
Got weapon fire from my handgun like the squeezing of the Mac
She said I’m so immense, she gun tip in my belt
If you know me, bitch, then you know me, bitch
I keep the guns by myself
I got more wealth than you rap niggas
Don’t fire, don’t act, niggas
My niggas get act, niggas, fuck around start clap, niggas
And them Patty Pretzels, they do amuse me
I might drop a bag just to watch a flick like I’m at the movies
Nigga, work upon my wrist, my phone pals on my hip
Let me talk my shit, the machine gun your bitch
I said you ever spend the night when I’m hustling, when I’m hustling
‘Bout half a mil’ in my driveway and now I touch your bitch, you have it good
Niggas try to get the drug, but I put down
Let them wait, I’ve been down like a seesaw
Fronting is going back and forth, no ping pong
Screaming “fuck the law!” I’m King Kong
Been on my test with my vest on, get tough now
Smoke a loud till the stress gone, nigga
Mouth got you jumping off the roof
I guess a nigga not so nigga
Rebel by the motto on a mixtape shit, venomous chest ole nigga
I probably got a wolf for dead, hit him in the lung, let him call for dad
When I leave the booth go straight to the trap
If I ain’t got that roofer, bet I got that Mac
32 shots, nigga, shot to your cat
Throw a gun, throw a kit, take that back
Gripped out, I’m ready, black car, no limit, ham talking, let’s get it
All my niggas authentic, ham talking, we live it
Ham talking, we live it
Gripped out, I’m ready, black car, no limit, ham talking, let’s get it
All my niggas authentic, ham talking, we live it
Ham talking, we live it
Nigga, I’m a killa, homicide all on my face
Gun all on my waist
Down to catch a new case from my hitter
Staying down away for my boss
Scream “fuck the law!”
Give a round of applause
I’m a killa
That murder, murder, that 187
That murder, murder, that 187
When the trucks pull up and nowhere to hide
That murder, murder, that homicide
