Tears Of A Killa
(专辑: Ghetto Heisman - 2002)
[Verse 1: W.C.] Our Father, Who Art in Heaven, Hallowed Be Thy Name I
bow to you with a
heart full of pain Tear stains, Khaki suited and off the
chain Eyes jaded, straight exhausted from the
gist-name I
play it calm but the
truth is; I'm losing my mind, and hoping you can help me through this All these snitches, punk tricks, Cheddar twisting Phony-ass niggaz in this Record Business Hold down, now let me take my handkerchief and tie it around me Lake it or pancake it, then slide on my bounties Ride on, grind on, say a
prayer with my strap Hit the
street and get mines on Bring new heat, swing through streets; I
want it but can't stop Chopping and moving this D, I'm in too deep Ándele Ándele, rips and dime moves, build with a
nigga Feel the
tears of a
killer [Chorus: Butch Cassidy] I
got the
blues, how shall I
be loose? Which row to choose, something confuse La la la la la la la (Tears of a
Killer, my life, the
tears of a
Killer) Can't go away, with no delay Back in the
day, my mind was made just astray La la la la la la la (Tears of a
Killer, my pain, the
tears of a
Killer) [Verse 2: W.C.] Dear Mr. President, Chief of Police, the
DA Firm The
Judge of the
Commonwealth, this concerns I'm from the
Bandanna Empire Just one of the
many of young riders caught at the
crossfire A
product of my environment, rip riders and bloods But to your perceive, that's a
thug But in all actuality, we're two of the
same kind Cause your war ain't no different that mines We're both wave a
flag signs Nigga that what's the
difference, we do drive-bys, you do fly-bys Ring the
alarm, show me the
info's of One Time Swarmy Cause like Ali said Fuck your Army! I'd rather slang Fuck All Y'all Cause the
President ain't never took a
trip to my hood And around here, we've been at war for years Feel the
tears! [Chorus: Butch Cassidy] [Interlude: W.C.] You know what I'm saying? It ain't nothing but my pain, it ain't nothing but my pain My struggle, your struggle, tears of a
killer! [Verse 3: W.C.] Uhh! now this is for them niggaz from around the
way Cooking work up and getting it, my holster affiliates Little homies, big homies, kins That meet my niggaz find lives in them level four penitentiaries Trust me dog, though my poster is on the
wall I
ain't forgot, I
still got love for y'all Though haters wanna adjust me, cause my wrist is crispy Please believe it, these cameras don't mean shit to me Side by side, we're all used the
same blights Came up together from the
same bytes Riding on the
back of the
Ice Cream trucks and gold cars Then when the
money came in, done fucked over the
whole cards Now, it's every nigga for his self, cut throats Damn! Loc, where did the
love go? On behalf of the
Gs rested in peace, I
had to speak on it Together we're the
shit, don't sleep on it [Chorus: Butch Cassidy]