Righteous Kill Songtext / Lyric

I'm a fucking thunderstorm, you's a light shower

You a bitch, you shoot and miss like Dwight Howard

You can't battle the god, I'm too precise coward

That's like Khalid Muhammad saying he's White Power

This the machete that your organs getting sliced out with

The blind motherfucker in the village Bryce Howard

My brain only function proper in the night hours

You might own a fucking label but the mic ours

My shit hi-tech lord like a plastic bomb

An asshole, I punch people with glasses on

Anybody disagreeable we mashing on

I only fuck with green and gold god magic wand

An encore is the only thing that you clapping on

I'm a pitbull pussy, you a papillon

A bitch get a 40 from me, not a glass of Dom

I'm the G-29 in the assassin's palm



[Chorus]






All I hear is danger, all I see is danger

All you hear is “run, run, here come danger”

Shatter dreams like Freddy your thoughts rearrange ya

Stare death dead in the eyes, it'll change ya



All I hear is danger, all I see is danger

All you hear is “run, run, here come danger”

Shatter dreams like Freddy your thoughts rearrange ya

Stare death dead in the eyes, it'll change ya



[Verse 2]



It's a righteous kill, I don't do nothing but write and kill

Drink 40s, smoke el, push the white and krill

I move strong and fast, I have a bison's will

I'm the motherfucking champ, I'm the fightin' Phils

I'm from the city of the syrup and Vicodin pills

From the city the most fearless of fighters was filmed

The city where we have the most street veterans still

The Moors, Nuwaubians, Five Percenters will build

I'm from Philly motherfucker, the rawest it comes

I make your body disappear, I'm a sorcerer's tongue

You live your whole life in fear that the torture will come

I hope my music is revered like a portrait of Pun

I'm paranoid god here in my fortress with guns

I had a void god, filled it with whores and with blunts

I ain't have a choice god, I was born in the slums

I ain't have a voice god till I slaughtered the drums



[Chorus]



[Verse 3]



Yeah, the four-fifth is a melon popper

Hollow tips spin your body like a helicopter

Anything can move god if you sell it proper

And I've been through more viewings than a teleprompter

This is horrorcore beat, got hella monsters

My team's got more Gs than a spelling proctor

Y'all ain't never moved D, y'all are petty choppers

I got a vicious left hook, call me Eddie Thomas

But I'm raw with the right hand

Like Jack Johnson fighting against the white man

Yeah I'm about to shorten your life span

Evil shit can be good if it's in the right hands

I make motherfuckers burn, you a slight tan

I keep a motherfucking urn on my nightstand

So wait your motherfucking turn like a hype man

I bury you with the snitches under the white sand



[Chorus]