TONY YAYO

TONY YAYO - Homicide lyrics

rate me

Turn me up in them fuckin headphones real quick man

I'm feelin to body this track

and body a nigga when I get the fuck outta here man

Cocksucker this ain't rap, check my rap sheets

I feed you to the rats with peanut butter on yo' feet

44 bulldog, get money hustle hard

So the feds want my face on that damn number card

I drag you in your elevator, hit the stop button

So when I pop somethin they can't fingerprint nothin

I help you wit'cho bitch, I'm lovin your dame

Shoot her ass and her heart, hit her jugular vein

Niggaz talk it they don't live it, these niggaz is butt

Go through they projects and they jewels is tucked

I'm in apartment 4B, wipin down the llama

With two freaks kissin like, Britney and Madonna

And you know how I ride when the beef is on

Pull up, LA LA like Jamaican songs

It's a niiiiiiiine, it's a nine

There's a clip in the nine, bullet in the clip

Bullet in the chamber, round on the ground

And that's why homicide all around

There's a hole, there's a hole

There's a hole in his head, hole in his leg

Hole in his pants, holes everywhere

And that's why homicide all around

There's a body, there's a body

There's a body in a drop, body in a lot

Body uptown, body downtown

And that's why homicide all around

I'm in that brand new Range; when I pull up kid

I turn your brains into red concrete stains

That's the beauty of gruesome violence

I'm loudmouth nigga but my Ruger silent

Sun-up, sundown, my fishscale move

And if a nigga wanna stop it he gon' be fish food

Yeah Yayo rhyme but I murk a person

And when your mind leave your body your spirit is soul searchin

Gas your team, nigga I'ma blast your team

I got plastic milk jugs full of gasoline

Four-fours bark loud, you layin in heaven

While your moms and your pops in deep clouds of depression

I turn your head into pasta, and baked zuchinni

Like that bitch did that rasta in "New Jack City"

In broad daylight, you better think twice

Or that thing on your hip nigga better spray right

It's a niiiiiiiine, it's a nine

There's a clip in the nine, bullet in the clip

Bullet in the chamber, round on the ground

And that's why homicide all around

It's a hole, it's a hole

It's a hole in his head, hole in his leg

Hole in his pants, holes everywhere

And that's why homicide all around

It's a body, it's a body

It's a body in a drop, body on the block

Body uptown, body downtown

And that's why homicide all around

Feelin to fuckin kill somebody right now nigga, fuck!

Got a SHITLOAD of guns right now nigga

Homicide come around I'm gone nigga

When you see them suits and ties

You best to believe I did that to you nigga

Matter of fact I didn't do that to you

Huh, c'mon man, shit is real man

This is for them niggaz - fuck yo listen lemme tell you somethin

Don't run up on no whip

Just run up on a nigga and blow his fuckin brains out

That's what, that's gangsta nigga - you hear me?

Don't fuckin run up on a whip and spray somethin

Lemme see you, shoot a nigga brains out

and stand there for two minutes, and then run, motherfucker!

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found