Інформація про пісню На цій сторінці ви можете ознайомитися з текстом пісні Firing Squad , виконавця - K Rino. Пісня з альбому Intervention (The Big Seven #7), у жанрі Иностранный рэп и хип-хопДата випуску: 14.11.2016
Лейбл звукозапису: SoSouth
Інформація про пісню На цій сторінці ви можете ознайомитися з текстом пісні Firing Squad , виконавця - K Rino. Пісня з альбому Intervention (The Big Seven #7), у жанрі Иностранный рэп и хип-хопFiring Squad |
| Them killers I’m send ‘em, murder coming with ‘em |
| Sixteen deadly venoms when I hit ‘em |
| Twenty ni**as die when I loose-leaf and pen ‘em |
| Spirits die too when I Bruce Lee and end ‘em |
| My firing squad hard, ya ni**as we don’t |
| Your body get burnt, charred, you’re screaming «Oh Lord» |
| Hit ‘em with the cannon, they existed no more |
| Nuclear bombs, no ceiling, no floors |
| Body count more when the horror |
| More than the, f*ck a folklore |
| F*ck a front door, blood we want more |
| Half the world dance 'til I want a encore |
| You ni**as ain’t ready, my heavy |
| Burst like confetti when I swing my machete |
| Then I’ma let ‘em loose, a hundred mad yetis |
| And level mo' sh*t than a New Orleans levee |
| Everybody know my mind so gone |
| It’s known every line so strong |
| People wanna know why I grind so long |
| Dammit, I’m a shooter with a blindfold on |
| Tryna beef with me, these emcees ain’t even on my frequency |
| SPC killers are increasingly more beastly |
| Wannabe Gs wouldn’t last one week with me |
| When I turn my mic on and shocked on it |
| When I’m through speaking a beat, got knots on it |
| I’m dropping soul pain, it’s hot in your brain |
| I snatch your collarbone off like a gold chain |
| I smoke lots of fellas like mozzarella |
| Whether killin' a instrumental or it’s a cappella |
| You’re not better plus your whole block is yellow |
| By the way, his wife’s a widow, I forgot to tell her |
| The things my pen do I teach in ten schools |
| Harder than a drunk dude tryna do a spin move |
| Every month, day, hour and minute I improve |
| You brand new to having some hype, I been cool |
| I’m starving and looking at you with a Ginsu |
| But ten fools talking sh*t on a menu |
| I set bombs off to explode in a venue |
| And sick rhyme serial killers on kin too |
| I destroy you on that pool table, teach you not to ever step |
| I’m a legend in this game, only preceded by my rep |
| I got style, I got skills, but that don’t even tell half the story |
| Usually I’m not one to brag, those that know me do it for me |
| Like a silent assassin, I just let my game talk |
| Playing at a high level, way before I learned to walk |
| If you gotta challenge me, you might as well just sell your soul |
| Make that do what I want, just like I had a remote control |
| People always asking, «How you learn to shoot that way?» |
| I just make it look easy, but it ain’t easy, player, like Rapper K |
| Really it’s just a gift from God, and if I’m gonna keep it real |
| I have to say I learned from the best, RIP AC Chill |
| SPC mo' still on the scene |
| Chucky the Killer, murder one, come like sniper |
| K-Rino, Ganksta N-I-P and their team |
| That’s the firing squad, we got them F16s |
| I f*ck with my team tough, I stay on the scene rough |
| Kill a motherf*cker tryna call my bluff |
| I’m too much to be touched, I splash his ab quick |
| My heart won’t tip when I walk in this b*tch |
| I’m not programmed for all that bullsh*t |
| I shotty him quick and I call it quits |
| With that lyrical venom, I’m about to hit ‘em and split ‘em |
| Kill ‘em and get ‘em every time I step up and I deliver this flow |
| You just don’t know, Chuck go and do that though |
| Pull up on the scene, I’m in SPC mode |
| And I rep that and by the G code I fire the stilo |
| Line ‘em up, time to face it, firing squad — can’t escape it |
| My culture — can’t erase it, my blackism — I embrace it |
| I can’t fake it, I can’t let ‘em make it, I can’t let ‘em slide |
| Lynch my brothers, rape my sisters, no, I can’t let that ride |
| I got pride, I’m fired up, I’m wired, flames up in my eyes |
| They be killing us in the street, some are sixteen, genocide |
| Mr. Cap of the SPC squad, penalizing corruption |
| Seventy-five rifles trained on ‘em, waiting for instructions |
| Destruction in my wake, my spirit you can’t break |
| My third eye awake, we marching the earthquake |
| When the 50 KR break, every chain be loaded and cocked |
| I’ll be there when the smoke clear, watch them all drop, ‘igga |
| This gon' be a slaughterhouse, yeah I can see it now |
| Your future in the palm of my hands, you ‘bout to die now |
| Ain’t no retracting your infraction, it’s a cold case |
| Put me in front of the judge, I got stone face |
| Shells in my shotgun too, plus they |
| Ni**as shooting out the back of the trunk, in moving cars |
| You don’t want none of these problems, ni**a, I promise |
| You gon' end up like the late Christopher Wallace |
| You can take it up with the Lord, he oughta clear it out |
| After I murder your flesh, I take your spirit out |
| K called the firing squad and I’m the serg |
| When B-1 get at Nard, then discharge |
| Air them clowns, lay ‘em down |
| Pioneer blazing, flaming crown |
| The return of the felon, aiming rounds |
| Devils get to running when the God’s in town |
| A time to kill, graze the field |
| The walking dead turn to talking heads |
| I’m the risen son from the hidden one |
| The forbidden gun come to end your run (good riddance) |
| We are splitting like the Red Sea deadly |
| Steadily on the grind, ancestors on my mind |
| After dress ‘em one time, nothing lesser than a nine |
| No pressure when I’m shooting off the rib ‘cause I’m snoozing |
| Moving for the kill for real |
| It’s the thrill of the kill that’ll seal the deal |
| Grip the grain of the heat like a steering wheel |
| Got your faith through Hades or The Pearly Gates, wait |
| No mistake who you’re listening to |
| It’s too late when death get to whistling through |
| It’s too late when your face in that firing squad |
| Your time is up, best believe we firing, God |
| Meet the lord of the perfect |
| Who want war with the force of that |
| Breathe the verse and the earth will crack, I tell ya |
| It gets no worse than that |
| Warning:, this how I attack this track |
| Murder One leaving suckers on they back |
| When drama comes, I set it off, this Southside killer |
| When I bust a round, you’ll gyrate on like a Jackson video Thriller |
| I’m the wrong rasta man to be f*ckin' with |
| I’m the wrong rasta man to be f*ckin' with |
| I’m the wrong rasta man, you’ll have wife and kids |
| And I’m the right motherf*cker that won’t let ya live |
| Dangerous, notorious, loving every minute of it |
| Inflicting pain, loved ones crying, soon they get over it |
| It’s a dirty game, it’s a game that we all chose to play |
| And you hear my heater whistle, when I start to spray |
| what I really wanna be |
| And if I’m gonna be a G with a key, break free from the scene |
| Get away, got away clean |
| With a Robitussin with a Sprite with a codeine got a ni**a on lean |
| Back in the days I was rocking the braid |
| Now these days it be rocking the fade with a piece and chain still gripping the |
| grain |
| Still but a damn thing change |
| thug thing, gotta get paid |
| Want twenty-twos just so I’ma sling some blades |
| Gotta hit the lye, gotta break the off on the spot with a Cadillac Escalade |
| Got a in the back, then back |
| Two Tec twenty-twos in a black backpack |
| Wanted countless stacks, you ni**as ‘bout to jack |
| Y’all punk motherf*ckers ain’t f*ck with that |
| Hit his ass for a knot to the fade with a cocaine rock to the fiends on the |
| block |
| Got 2014 like I say I win, double up again, ni**a, f*ck the cop |
| Mashin' them h*es and I smash the gas |
| Take two or three puffs, ni**a, dump the ash |
| Let a ni**a know f*ck the motherf*ckin' po-po |
| South Park ni**as ain’t scared to blast |
| I was creeping in the streets when I got the message about some drive-away K |
| I grabbed my forty-five, then bust a u, and texted I was on my way |
| Thinking about how I’ma kill these fools |
| And all the things that they mama would say |
| When I Instagrammed they photo, put it on Facebook with his head slumped kinda |
| this way |
| We retaliate, my street coulda been |
| I got beef, how you motherf*ckers' salad taste? |
| Plus I’m, f*ck what he had to say |
| Don’t reply to me, you jump fly with me |
| Your hood status don’t apply to me |
| Inside of me resides a beast |
| Leaving a bloody trail of emcees as far as the eye can see |
| With binocular vision, you will put yourself in a awkward position |
| Them DBX is a top competition |
| Beware the Coalition but y’all did not listen |
| It’s not my intention if y’all to come up missing |
| From your home or workplace |
| Shouldn’t have f*cked with K-Rino in the first place |
| Worse case scenario, you in a hearse face up |
| Them DBX ready to bust |
| So what I ain’t on a invite, still crash that b*tch at midnight |
| What’s beef? Soon as you see his ass, it’s on site |
| Respect is earned, not given, don’t cost nothin' to be a real ni**a |
| Money don’t make you a gangsta, no matter who you surround yourself with |
| When adjust your presence in the room, start gaining attention |
| That’s when you work that motherf*cker, sh*t get interesting |
| You get to see who’s who and what’s what |
| Then go in sweating and that p*ssy start opening up |
| Open your eyes, ni**a, I been here since the crack years |
| But damn it seem like ni**as done f*ck with me ‘cause I’m too real |
| Expecting me to fold as a whole but it’s no real |
| It’s only right for me to add it up and make the sh*t clear |
| I’m talking to you, old b*tch-ass, no-career-ass |
| Ni**as think they got ahead, but they still in fear-ass |
| How could you look me in the eyes of man |
| And say you love me when the knife is in my back as I stand? |
| But yet I’m everything you ni**as wanna be |
| Everything you h*es wanna see, I meant that |
| And everything you ni**as try to do I do it better ‘cause I kick ass |
| So no more Mr. Nice, minus ain’t the life |
| get ya killed, I’m firing ‘em up like it’s a drill and Rino paid the price |
| You about to witness some rapping and dome clapping |
| I’m leaving these suckers gasping, yeah I’m about that action |
| Too trill you can’t clone, my melanin too strong |
| Y’all got me up in my zone by talking on two phones |
| Don’t let that suit and tie fool ya, yeah I did politics |
| Before that, I was posted up with nicks |
| And CDs by bloodliner’s Nubian kush |
| Warrior, emperor, take the mic off the hook |
| I got ‘em shook, or maybe it’s the way that I floss |
| Paid dues in this game, it don’t matter the cost |
| South Park Coalition, they was the first crew |
| Southside representing, my ni**a, that’s what it do |
| Leaders don’t follow, they live to see tomorrow |
| When you beg, bum and borrow, it shows your words are hollow |
| Liars, snakes, snitches, users, moochers fall hard |
| They face the firing squad, oh my god |
| Don’t call ‘em now, it’s much too late |
| You didn’t change your ways so just accept your fate |
| SPC be the clique, we put heads to bed |
| I know you shook, the shadow of your soul is shaking scared |
| Perspiration, anxiety, today your ass gon' learn |
| P*ssy is a doorknob so we all gon' get a turn |
| Erotic, psychotic describes my mental system |
| South Park juggernaut, GT Hoodizm |
| Not tryna cap, but you ain’t been where I been, fool |
| I got more killers in my circle than the pen do |
| They say that orange the new black, I say no thank ya |
| I’m ‘bout my bread, keeping it business, the new gangsta |
| Stay on the grind, getting it the slow or the fast way |
| So many hefty bags, you might think it’s trash day |
| Stay strapped, ready to spray if yo ass play |
| So where your body fall, that’s where your body lay |
| Southside South Park is where we all from |
| Ain’t nobody saying sh*t when them laws come |
| Bust a snitch in the mouth and leave his jaws numb |
| And don’t start no sh*t ‘cause it’s gon' be some |
| Son of, I’m used to hearing them shots, boy |
| I’m used to seeing them cops on a ni**a ass, yes they hot boy |
| Better watch out for them scheming ni**as and them roaching h*e ‘cause they |
| plotting, boy |
| I’ma treat none of these ratchet b*tches like classy chicks ‘cause they rotten, |
| boy |
| The power to tour, collecting my dollars from crumbs |
| Inhaling my flowers in lumps, I came straight outta the slums |
| I want it all hundreds and ones and when I die, that’s for my son |
| My son, my son, say when I die, that’s for my son |
| Uh, young raised by the streets, had to blaze flame to the beat |
| Dedication every time I write, I leave my blood stains on the sheets |
| still f*cking up to eat, no hesitation, I ain’t got a thing |
| Mind gone, think I need a shrink |
| They watching me and can’t even blink |
| Blow it inside of ‘em, kill ‘em, I body ‘em |
| There ain’t no finding ‘em, I’m there reminding ‘em |
| I get your b*tch to blow me like |
| I got no time for your sh*t, you ain’t hot enough |
| Taking a break from the bake getting cake |
| You ain’t gotta eat red meat to know it’s a steak |
| I’m so cold on the flow, my shoes turn into skates |
| Icy the user like me, now they hate |
| What’s up with these ni**as? Motherf*ck they |
| Stacking your figures and these b*tches |
| I’m nice on religion, but I pray to God |
| Pray that it keep me away from the frauds |
| Spin around that’s the squad |
| Had to see what they made of, they so hard |
| And drop the sound, they done turn it into a job |
| We cleaning up shop, you are now unemployed |
| Allow me to hop on the track |
| Allow me to put real music on the map |
| Allow me to kill any beat ‘cause I won’t be defeated |
| I’m heated, believe it’s a fact |
| So now that I have your attention, I think I should mention that I am not |
| feeling you ni**as |
| Instead I’ma get on a beat and continue to eat, steady proving I’m killing you |
| ni**as |
| With that being said, I’m constantly getting that bread |
| Focused on staying ahead, no longer misled |
| Planning my future instead, don’t really care ‘bout the Feds |
| You heard what I said, I won’t be affected by negativity, instead I’ma grind |
| Building a empire for me and mine’s |
| So call it p-o-p, I hold it down |
| No pain, no gain |
| Stimulate your mind like cocaine |
| Better get in line like Usain |
| Wanna face the squad — that’s insane |
| I’ma get up in they mind, they ain’t stopping me |
| They can have a million guns aim at ‘em at me |
| I’ma run on the track 'til my feet bleed |
| They better phone home like E. T |
| Out of site, out of mind, I stay in the hood, I ain’t hard to find |
| Trump and Hillary are out of line, they finna get hit better |
| I ain’t playing no games, I’m just telling the truth |
| Snapping they seals like I’m chasing the loot |
| Red rum so watch out |
| I’m squeeze on the trigger 'til they all out |
| Line ‘em up, one by one, I’ma hit ‘em with a verse, I don’t need a gun |
| Split wigs and pierce flesh, I’m down to get dirty but I stay fresh |
| Unleashing all the darkness, squad nonstop and cock it |
| Knowledge keeps the progress, Firing Squad in process |
| Six degrees of separation, we just need a separate nation |
| I’ma call it revolution, you can call it revelation |
| Spend it how you wanna spend it, plus put something funky in it |
| In this thing to show my naked ass and I’m a donkey with it |
| Coalition soldier, bruh, we’ll destroy and fold ya, bruh |
| The revolution won’t be televised, that’s what they told us, huh? |
| A million brothers stand with me, knowledge born organically |
| Oh say, yeah I can see how Uncle Sam don’t f*ck with me |
| The devil planned it all along, they want all the races gone |
| Smiling with them faces on, b*tch, f*ck you and that racist song |
| Here your twenty-one gun salute, b*tch, them twenty-one guns for you |
| Twenty-one guns they stop my flow and reckless tag gon' come for you |
| Назва | Рік |
|---|---|
| Grand Deception | 2009 |
| Houston Is ft. Sunday | 2021 |
| Everlasting Life ft. Chad Jones | 1999 |
| Non-Stop ft. Kuwait | 1999 |
| Hardest Clique ft. K-Rino featuring A.C. Chill, PSK-13, Gangxsta Nip, Point Blank | 1999 |
| (Commercial Break) Awareness | 1999 |
| Why Ya Wanna Hate ft. DJ Screw | 1999 |
| No Mercy | 1999 |
| Drownin' In Blood | 1999 |
| Shoot To Kill ft. K-Rino featuring Seven, DBX, Felony & Ruff Eyque | 1999 |
| How Do Ya Know? | 1999 |
| Point A To Point B | 1999 |
| Square The Game Off ft. Reload | 1999 |
| Lord Of The Worlds | 1999 |
| Feel My Flow ft. K-Rino featuring Edgar Lee | 1999 |
| Trust No One ft. Point Blank | 1999 |
| Speak Of The Devil ft. K-Rino featuring Markus M-Uhd, Wrath & Brain Dead | 1999 |
| Fakers Die Young ft. K-Rino featuring C-Rock & Wickett Crickett | 1999 |
| Tellin’ on Um | 2018 |
| The Glasses | 2018 |