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Kevin Gates

Khaza

 

Khaza

(Album: Murder For Hire - 2015)


Gates get the business cleared anywhere we at
Smiling in my face, but itching to get me wacked
Name in his mouth bad when he kick it wit' other camps
Telling lies wit' the stamp and try to give me the wrap
I'm in the street wit' it, you really won't be exact
Not a good gang member, the members'll probably rat
I don't trust many proficient at living that
I don't love women, I hit, you could get her back
Hang up in his face, watch how quick he call back
Whip up at the Texaco, now, what you call that?
You in the paint, now I get in wit' you, I'm wit' all that
Shoulder strap wit' a suppressor, MAC-11, fall back
Speakers bumping Omelly 'Osama Twin Lammas'
Grew up seeing violence, pull up, what's the knowledge?
Got my GED, wish I would have made it to college
Wishing you was free, I could picture you right on 'side me
If I love you, go to war over nothing if it's a problem
Diamonds in the T-O-P, diamonds in the bottom
Gold mouth dog, self-made, I'm a grinder
Stack paper, hit your girl later, it's a Friday
You know I got a lot of record labels trying to sign me
They say if I'm a risk, it's detrimental to the profit
Beyoncé follow me on Instagram, Jigga, watch it
Younger sister, tell her, 'Not interested', she a bopper
Healthy kid, Kodak Black, smoking that broccoli
Bread Winners administration, I'm Luca Brasi
Everybody sleeping on me, finally got it popping
Wishing I was wit' my children watching Mary Poppins
101 Dalmatians, smoking grass while I'm on my island
Getting tattooed in my kitchen, okay 'iego wit' the heater there
Ghetto, I be strolling 'round wit' smokers, I ain't even there
Right around the corner, got it jumping, you could meet me there
That bad news, they was talking 'bout already beat me there
Coming home to my apartment, finding my daughter dead
Then we put his kid in the oven, so now his daughter dead
Not a robbery, this a murder, woke the whole house
I don't go to funerals, but lean be getting poured out
Group home in Lake Charles, turn up, turn up, wait, pause
Atlanta wit' the cartel microwave, boy
Breadwinner Gang, we is mafia material
What up with Big Tony, mafia material
Hand signal, shouting out the plug in the interview
My grandfather used to fuck wit' [?] I could get a few
Scratch the dealers, now we go and get 'em in the inner tube
Breaking down, distribute, my fingers steady itching
Y'all shooting videos where they 'posed want to kill me
I got 'em under the hood, the soft grade Civic
Balenciaga-rocking, but now it's all Forces
Call me what you want, lately pulling up in Porsches
I'm the real plug, but started out an enforcer
Failure to comply, most likely might have to force you
Blow your brains out, the body bag or the coffin
Me and the carnal in the Jag sipping coffee
We don't get harassed by the badge where the warrant?
Never been a confidential witness, not informant
Trapping out the shop, why you finding this alarmin'?
I just got it in, watch how quick it disappear
You tall and you can't dress, really, you annoying
Lil' mama better get wit' me before I'm out of range
Right, they got him dumb, they kinda put me in the game
Me and Dreka dealing wit' the green, that's the only play
Five hundred mil turned out in the safe
Call Coca-Cola, they'll tell you I don't plays
Street game legend in the game, I'm a stepper
Stayed at the Polish last time we was together
Mazi take care of my kids when it's up and then get messy
Cheeseburger hit, got the [?] bought the drop
The rap game fake, Kevin Gates, free the Wap (Gucci, nigga)

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