Texty:
Killer Mike Burn

ever ever was for They say the cop wrote a letter apologizing to Oscar Guess they say I'm wrong cause I steal... Police in the ghetto, they is killing

in Jamaica We cut down the weed, bury the paper on the makers Martin had a dream, Bob got high I still do both but somehow I got by Treflo prayed, Mike

don't be no punk And while the nigger's keep jocking I be scoping All the fine ass freaks of oakland That's where I reside, and where I always will be The city of killers

kill her so i say good night to her she don't want me to leave i can see right through her So we, dipped hopped burned one trip by get low like Corribean

vest walk with a bunch of bananas on his chest. these monkey niggas on that monkey shit. best keep a revolva i boss like a gorilla and kill em with a

up, burn brother for the real..fast Terrible lung split frame for reala One-man go low hit man guerilla Whispering there something of a thriller, killer

't nobody here but me [Hook] [Verse 3 - Killer Mike] Yeah I smoke, and I drank Yeah I pop, and I lean Might see me on M.L. King Burnin rubber, burnin

grip grain on the stair Like Killer Mike all I do is dream about sex But when I wake up, I have a dream about a check And after that I burn rubber When

gave me relations, so now we related The morning comes, the picture faded Awaited on my turn to burn, can I get a light? Little Dog, Bigger Bite, Jackson Five, Little Mike