Killarmy - Street Monopoly Lyrics
[9th Prince]Yoaw! I'm 'bout to torture the phone, the phone pieceLeave it deceased, six feet deepThe 9th Prizm, Mad Mizm, get up in 'emAiyyoaw, aiyyoawLord of your majesty and generosityHow could you possibly, try to rob me from my monopolyGhetto property, street jeopardyDeath mack celebrities, we pray for war,like the Russian militaryEnter the stage with a grenade, and a macheteStab you like Bloody Mary - I do this for convictsTakin niggas commisaryNiggas ain't feelin me, I ain't feelin you eitherYou ain't my brother, ***** IT!Let's grab the nines and try to murder each otherMOTHER*****ER!![Dom Pachino]Yo, millatic mind structureDome bone crushers, stone busters, slugs musterDiamond clusters, don't even trust herSpanish kid the fun is over, make a party motorCall ya dojos, this man remind me of a soldierWhen I speak words cut airStop your breathin, there's a lot of dues required of manYou not recievin sneak, thievin niggas are bleedinRecievin aid on my V.I.I had my baby girl boof, via grenade***** around, in the bathroom nigga, you get slainWe got those two there - if you act up there'll be a raidRazor blades, infected with AIDSI'd rather be a fat rap cat nigga that's paid[Chorus - Dom Pachino] 2xIt's past your bedtimeEverybody out past twelve is gettin stuckWe don't give a *****!Close ya doors, close ya windows, we climb balconiesTo make it in this street monopoly[Killa Sin]Aiyyo this rap law, clap boars, crack jawsSnatch drawers, live war, nigga act raw, getcha back tornHacksaw my way in, gats no displayin 'emYou, light up the skyline, I'm clappin at'cha craniumAin't no stoppin my flow, like dominoes dropGeronimo! Toss him out the Tahoe naughty gotta goEighty on the Verizano, hyrdo bottle, mind boggleCop sergeant chasin, we escapin by a narrow marginCamuoflage Large killas, bitin off ya squadGet you no love, but die-hard fans might throw slugs[Islord]Picture the God gettin caught off guard, that shit is ab-surdI hold my square down very superb-lyIt be the Islord with the swordComin from the barrel of the StatenAnd rollin with, five live menWho got guard-junials on 'emWord is bond God I'm speakin the truth, the actual factStep into my chamber, you get waxedWordlife black, I'm mad nice with my life blackSacrifice the Zulu times twiceFor my son, live on the run, no lie ask aroundYou might got, niggas who might wanna testify 'gainst the kidThey get they biz chopped in half,and that's just part of my warpath...[Chorus] 4x
