Khasi Bloodz - S.K.I.L.L Sicka Killa Illa Luna Logic Official Music Video (Explicit) Shillong скачать в хорошем качестве

Khasi Bloodz - S.K.I.L.L Sicka Killa Illa Luna Logic Official Music Video (Explicit) Shillong

Like us on FACEBOOK : www.facebook.com/officialkhasi Follow us on INSTAGRAM : www.instagram.com/khasibloodzofficial Mail ID : [email protected] D-Bok (Verse 1) Glock cocked on these hoes like Tupac, I’m the realist motherfucker you not, New boys rewind this shit on ya boom box, But punk motherfucker don’t run, Coz I don’t even got no gun, only words, Aint no money and a pocket fulla blunts, And they cut like a machete son you don’t wanna front, Once I grip this mic, its kryptonite, Believe me you don’t wanna fuck with this cat tonight, I’ll even hang superman from his balls tonight, no my life aint bright, It’s so dark no light, everything’s so sad its black and white, Only way to kill the pain is to kill this mic, That's why I became this murderous rapper, Imma eat you alive like a buncha piranhas, Take you on a dive to the coldest of waters, I’m breakin Your strive throw you a lead shower, Emcees I devour, don’t say I didn't warn ya, Fans hear me on the mic they get a feeling of euphoria, I aint never been a stranger tell hip-hop imma saviour, Yes I am on my prime shit, I don’t dance I rhyme bitch, I got a couple of minutes to win it, I’m in it like Crooked, and I meant it, The game!! I shock it like a pussy I fuck it The fame!! You want it, adore it, you love it, Your name!! You wear it you raise it don’t break it, the image you live it, The illest don’t fake it, your image drive it the realist don’t crash it, I blast shit, smash shit, scribble all that acid, Now I’m done doing that, Imma skinny ass dude but my rhymes Still fat, Started from the bottom? Fuck that I started from the gutter, still stuck on that, This where I’m at, I’m an evil seed, I drink too much I smoke the weed... D-Bok (Verse 2) Don’t be fuckin with the devils book of knowledge kid Rappers that's my modafuckin name acknowledge it And if a sucker wanna read I’m an open book But you don’t wanna beef cause I love to cook And you could never pull me down cause I’m off the hook I hit rappers like a quake, got this whole game shooked Yeah I’m back in the zone taken back what I own I mean the game bitch I’m takin all of it I’m leavin nothin for these assholes kids Fuck a love song dance song shit This aint legit its hell I spit the darkess shit I’m sicka than Lucifer bitch I slick prick crucifix Lucifer’s dick Wow, what is this? Who sings this why do I sound dope in broken English Well, I didn’t graduate but I know my way with words, I’m great! And these rap metaphors took a leap of faith Kept rap alive, put my life at stake Tell Marshall I did it for the Rap God sake For the rap god made me everything I am and till to date I’m a psychopath I kill with hate New hip hop heads I decapitate I spit that venom I punch lines I leave your mind fucked and raped You lyin suckin fakes I am more lethal than Ebola I’ll inject your ass with aids Aint that good aint that great now let the judges concentrate Let the people contemplate Competition aint fair but I’m bound to leave a hot debate I write dope I been great aint got faith I love hate Aint got love imma heart ache wanna murder these rappers I can’t wait Disfigure this wigger I can break everything I spit is gold Royce Big-Ri (Verse 3) The day your opinions can cash me a cheque, that'll be the day I gives a fuck what you think, I said The day your opinions can cash me a cheque, that'll be the day I gives a fuck what you think, The truth is what I’m here with, In the booth I just don't hear shit, I'm a nuke and my flow's like blast waves, Clearing path ways, I'm working till the day my craft pays, I'm 24 but looking 35 I got that stress face. They're saying "Ri you're losing your mind, this isn't your race" I tell 'em "regardless, I’m running it till I’m at first place". Respect my craft or lay to waste, Coz I ain't giving that chase up, You better hasten your pace up, I got my boots all laced up, You can't sleep on me bitch, wake up, Since I can't bust guns imma bust a lick up, After I hollow a bottle of liquor Then body the beat with magma, Smack a factory rapper then go back to, Another fucking bottle of Johnny Walker. We don't gang bang, we're not gangsters, but the Khasi Bloodz write red rum, murder, All the way from north east India, Shillong city, bet you're proud of me the whole world now knows ya, I'm karma, for those who killed rap? I'm coming right back to bite ya, In spite all odds still fighting all frauds, Fuelling that fire, That inspiration in the rap game by the name of shady records, Funkvolume, Aftermath, And let there be nothing else after that. I'm not great as Crooked still this aint no competition, Shout out to Slaughterhouse, Yelawolf, Eminem, Horse shoe and 2 few others but the rest is irrelevant, Thinking they sick So this is me dissin While keeping away from name dropping.