On that evil shit Mane
Kill me off, i wont stress
I’m so cold you can see my breath
Pistol tucked down to my left
I grab the smiff and wesson
bout to teach you a lesson
Pop pop pop thats 3 shots empty
Bout to kill ya family mane you’ll never forget me
Got the nooses ready hanging up over the tree
That’s homicide in the first degree
Asking who’s the killer but I’m nobody
LIKE SMOKE — I vanish
After doing damage
Leavin the public in a panic
Cuz I’m the manic
Buckin the anna cannon
Askin what my motive is
Do you know this kid
Stompin on ya face till i close ya third eye lid
========
(ad lib)
(01:00)
Zeeth is raising hell
Rollin and smoking the L
Buckin the pump with 20 gauge shells
Got a nine, uzi, ak but that shit don’t matter
if i got to — I will ratta
When i grab the gauge all them pussy niggas scatter
Shooting at ya head — watch all of ya brain splatter
Manic depressive pyschotic stabber
walking around like Imma master with the clapper
haha
Catch this shit
Keep on talking down watch me rip out ya lungs
Satanic scripture make me speak in tongues
When i mutilate bodies it leaves an odor
I’m out squola
not even a quarter
Now I’m livin life at game over
The end is closer
the past is the end of days
Real niggas they getting paid
Spend money in different ways
them bitches i never chased
Killer, the realer, the nigga you made
London's Da Flyy Hooligan's brash and vivid lyrics are overlaid on beats from American hip-hop crew The Beat Junkies. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 27, 2024