SLIT

[Verse 1: Brahman]
Smokin' them cigs so she look like she dyin'
No talkin' unless you be lyin'
I'll sacrifice you like a mayan
I'm booty niggas as I am
But I leave 'em crying by killing 'em all
Your blood yeah I'm spillin' it all
Your necks yeah I'm slittin' em all
Snitch niggas they takin' the fall
And I'm baking them all in my oven like Hansel and Gretel
You niggas complaining you meddle
Fill you with metal
Being a bitch here's a medal
Always do great never settle
Sand in the mid of the road for me hittin' the pedal
Smokin' the flower like petal
Claim that you clean but the pot is as black as the kettle
Bitch

[Intermission: Brahman]
(Damn son where'd you find this?)
By the side of the highway
As a matter of fact
That's where you'll find me
With a bong in my lap
Self homemaking trap
End your life with a tap (x6)
Motherfucka'

[Verse 2: Royalty the Kidd]
I got yo bitch in a canopy
No you pink pussies can't stand with me
Do a fatality, capture the pain with a camera
Send that shit straight to your family, wait, ay
Samurai strap with the blade
Put that shit right through your face
Cuz ya'll niggas fake
All ya'll some shadow clone niggas that can't even keep up the pace
Snortin' the sand out the hourglass
A nigga tryna get some hours back
I drank the acid, where my powers at?
A couple xannies, and the loudest pack
Here to cuss 'em to the purgery
Make a statement 'fore they murder me
Put the metal to 'em like it's burglary
And kill momma's boy inside the nursery 'lil nigga

[Verse 3: Brahman]
Momma's boy better start thinkin'
Momma's boy better stop drinkin'
Momma's boy shittin' himself and he knee deep in it and he sinkin'
Cuz momma's boy wanna play victim
Trick 'em and fuck with the system
If you got a problem or thought you should probably list 'em
(Better go clean up my pants cuz I pissed em)
Few words of wisdom
Don't bring up a nigga that you don't want singin' 'bout you
Or thinkin' bout who we 'gon hit with the deuce
Or hit with the rhymes like his surname was Seuss
Heard that you loose with the way you was talkin'
Hit with the noose, or the knife, or the Glock
And we runnin' this block round the clock
If you foolishly walkin' we'll kill you
And stack your bodies are stocked in
(Yuh)