Killin' Spree (feat. CRIMEAPPLE)

Wanting money for a spree You did something mad, ohh When you went out in the street Perhaps you felt quite bad, felt quite bad Felt bad, I did I felt bad, I felt bad Trapping keys like trapeze Minus the need for the balance beam Still got to that Freddy without the trap queen No ads, I gave your team half the magazine Please, somebody call the fashion police Tapped up your rental, shot at the window, broken glass in the street It's a tragedy, it's better half was in the passenger seat My shooter got so many bodies, probably the only body Hammer thottie, fucked everybody, more bodies to Samuel Gotti But first, every homie gotta be ran by me Every dime served in lobby, murder and robbery The streets wild back then Even T-bass had a mac 10 Never know who bangin', it'll be a rude awakening When naked, try and locate where your bracelet is My Jamaican bitch pass it to me like Jason Kidd Baby cakes, that's a great assist I just had to lay it in Lay it in for the win, maybe even bang it and break the rim Went crazy in the gym I told them niggas get down, I lay down like JBM Hopped in the gray BM Don't throw the baby out with the piss It is what it is when you're MC like D-Paper Thant Thant like a vape pen, slim as an inmate's chance to escape the pen The trigger's on the hammer, it's a hairpin, yeah, pimp My Atlanta blitz sucked the air out of blimp That's a cherry on a banana split Shit Wanting money for a spree You did something mad When you went out in the street Perhaps you felt quite bad, felt quite bad I did Quite bad Yeah, yeah Bad When Mossberg dropped, I couldn't afford a modem Was disconnected at the moment When I heard Reloaded, cheddar had started flowin' Got some Mosin Petroleum on the elbow, the scale broke Almost got derailed when 12 felt close, I couldn't fail though Then hell froze over, I flex, I might neglect the Rover Pull up slower and something white and cheery at the Nestor Soza Met the quota, I lay vocals, that's compressing coca That's the focus, I could write a poem and finesse the podus Check the motives, for a check I don't respect the motions Had to shake my ex, now the organs in her chest is broken Grew up on Goya, now it's often oysters I'm enjoying Sure I'm a Goyan, but the lawyer I'm employing, reading the Torah My silhouette and aura caught her, better wear the walls up Shawty want a link with some eaters, blew this internet explorer Hallelujah, gotta thank every college tour I've been through it, got it out the sewer Had to treat the booth like it was a tiny school bus Provide the tour, pockets filled, on the squat velour Popping off, I stomp you wearing silk like two boxers caught What? Willie, you're a writer too, you've written some great songs When you write, what comes first? Since you're a musician also, a great trumpet player Does the music come first or the words? No, I usually put the music together I put the music together, then the words come