♪Monday, December 20, 2010

D12 - Kill Zone (Freestyle) Lyrics


D12 - Kill Zone (Freestyle)

yeah
d12 is back in the buildin’
about to hit yall’ with some freestyle shit
marry christmas motherfuckers
2011, get em’ get em’ yeah!

ayo’
im goin’ up that hinne’ low
cleveland he smoked, till siaked and coverd
blood and without a penny, broke
i never was a mathematician in class
division bored me, i was snoring. drempt of being
a graphic villan, then caps we pillin’
re-mash admishin. make ya’ face lookin’
like a fatal crash collision. blast a 5th and.
tip, out. i’ll throw you in the trunk,
kinda like an old white ladies but,
your ass is missin’

nigga’
you can’ compare me too rick ross,
in some ways. its whenever you see the boss
you gonna’ see gun play. put the torch in your face
and daffy duck in breal up. this ain’t call of duty
grab the oozy get cha ‘ kills up.
nigga’s be rollin’ plus they claim they
sittin’ on grands but they never tell you they
fucking gram’s are golden. im so cereal.
i’ll let the cannon busta, bust. in any senario.
bitch what the dilio. i could take the hardest.

sack then’ turn it too a kiddy’ show
if i find you fucked. like hide and go
giddy yo’. i am so vivid let the bullets play hide
and go get it. when i am pist off, i am so livid.
and nigga’s can’t fuck with us.
new nigga’s or old ones.
hit’ ya homies with hot hollows and grab a cold one.
who next flexin’?
i lift my two hands up.
i taken’ each one, and you can forward this text message.

y’all know bizzares gunna say some crazy shit
say 45 goin’ play shit
im amazin’ bitch
im the best rapper ever
get on stage in spandex and tight as leather, lace weed, cocain twins
stop lookin’ for bin laden, bin laden stay in detroit
brain, froze
can’t feel my toes
all i need is an eight ball, and a picher of amborose
20 thousand, dalante west can fuck my mother
50 thousand, he can sodamize my brother
eltan john say hes a celivic fag (whats a celivic fag?)
a fag who don’t like dick in his ass (wow)

damn straight
fuck it, we all going to heaven
so pull up some skinny jeans, and tongue kill john legend
im bout’ to go to canada, i can’t wait
tell bitches i know drake, and get my asshole ate

eatin’ pussy, nahh that aint cool
but whats cool’ is eating ass hair with food
im a rude dude
ruder then jude
baby face and if you aint attitude
and i smell food
time to eat pinky pornawoah time to beat wife went to work, time too cheat
in jail for rape somebody call reap, imma freak!

no survivin’ this poison is hybrid
bitches escaping on this ice, then fall out the side of it
i am a human perana, with a murderus’ persona
i dround a nigga’ inside his own saliva and blood
the mental isilum kicked me out, of it out it, it wasnt enough
i need a higher, more minatical place to call a club
imma’ cut throat
a nasty old animal
that will crack a nigga’ fast as a pastsheo’s and mozzeltove
i stomp a nigga’ for being soft
im just a dog that opened his mouth and broke the fuckin’ muzzle off

im cummin’ for your balls
at any cost, your washed it mars skeept through his cloths like a marg maller
im not sure
stab a nigga’ with rusty daggers
give em’ lock jaw, where they can’t open there trapper
imagine what hack saws could do to these rap frauds
you ain’t thuggin
they should be knockin’ on wood like jim dougin
im huggin’ this glock and imma’ squeez like an anaconda
thats standin’ on your block ill blast

any bandana that i see
i’ll beat cha’ with your own i.v.
in a spitte, i’ll put a pillow over that widdle and squeez
i’ve been a heaten
see i was my momma’s mistake
i born tirein’ im bombin where ever you basterds hibernate
they contimplate on killin me, im in the d’ livin it
im at the shootin range,a nd im bustin before im in that bitch

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