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

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

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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.

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