Krayzie Bone Follow

Krayzie:
Dead, dead, dead. Kill, kill, kill 'em all. Kill, kill, kill 'em all. (Leave 'em lyrically..) Dead, dead, dead, dead. Kill, kill, kill 'em all. Kill, kill, kill 'em all. (Leave 'em lyrically..) Dead, dead, dead, dead. Kill, kill, kill 'em all. (Die) Kill, kill, kill 'em all. (Die) Kill, kill, kill 'em all. (Die). Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. (Die, die, die, die....){Get 'em!}

When I hit 'em with the rhythm, nigga chill 'em to the bone. I kill 'em wit' a lyric and them niggas gettin' gone. I can never finish a song, because the competition never hold on that long. Flow faster than the minutes go on my phone. The wicked lyrical criminal's one my own. The sickest individual y'all might know 'em. I'm blowin' niggas mouths out. All I show is I'm a monster. (Beast!) Rollin' through like a Nephilim. And I'm fuckin' up the best of them. Ok nigga let's pretend that you a bullet-proof vest and I'm a automatic weapon Then. And that chest you call yo'self protectin' is yo' title. But when i'm releasin' this heat; it's vital--ya die. Goin' against me is suicidal. Kray's psycho like Michael. (Hee-heee!) Comin' back like I just sold a sack on the nine-nine. Drive by and I kill 'em wit' words. Blood and they mess fell all over the curb. Murda mo' some mo'. Hit 'em hard, get 'em all, kill 'em all. Hit the nigger in the heart, for havin' a thought. Then hit him in the brain, for thinkin' he can hang (hang).

Perfect execution. Blast assassination. Murda mo' (Killa!), murda mo', murda mo' (Killa..killa!), murda mo', murda! {x4}

I told y'all, I was about to get it crackin'. Keepin' it blazed; can't fade Krayzie Jackson. Creep with the AK straight aimed exactly; into the brain, bang-bang. Stranged wit' platinum. I'm a magnet for hit records. Truck a nigga like Madden I'm blitz heavy. No flaws, so believe that ya seen what'cha saw. So raw, make ya broad wanna get naked. 'Cause I spit that fire dawg; hot heat to burn ya. Had to take a little bit of me to learn ya. If anybody really got beef then stroll up and sure enough they gon' get broke and rolled up. Get smoked and folded up. I'm kinda like a fo'-fo'; just load me up,yep. But when I bust: I'm like an AK-47. Under the dust is where them mothafucka's rappin'--check 'em. But ask 'em how they got there. Leatha Face let the sawed-off pop,there (yeah, yeah..).Nigga said that all the bullshit stopped there. 'Cause twenty of 'em versus me still is not fair; just not fair. We always strong to the finish. Ya never seen a nigga so ill and so wicked. (None like me before.) Nigga feel like you feelin' the itch then come get it (come get it, come get it..).
Perfect execution. Blast assassination. Murda mo' (Killa!), murda mo', murda mo' (Killa..killa!), murda mo', murda! {x4}

Dead, dead, dead. Kill, kill, kill 'em all. Kill, kill, kill 'em all. (Leave 'em lyrically..) Dead, dead, dead, dead. Kill, kill, kill 'em all. Kill, kill, kill 'em all. (Leave 'em lyrically..) Dead, dead, dead, dead. Kill, kill, kill 'em all. (Die) Kill, kill, kill 'em all. (Die) Kill, kill, kill 'em all. (Die). Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. (Die, die, die, die....)