Bnk Lyrics

killa, killa, killa, killa

Black nigga killa. Hate brought death around the block as a hollow point bust
through the punk's back. Raisin' Cain, feel no pain as I penetrate. Nigga five
deep as I strike at a quick pace. I got the evil of my dead nigga trapped in my
mind so my soul is a threat to all mankind. Born to kill, I'm wicked by nature,
'cause the streets of my neighborhood breed young hellraisers. A 30.06 with the
scope I make a skinhead brain bust all across the West Coast. Muthaf*ckas
catchin' heat as I bring anger, and release more danger from my chamber. The
evil in my blood is possessed, so I creep low from the back slow and push lead
through that nigga's flesh. Ain't no hope when every nigga wants to be the
nine-milla, on the trigger, the black nigga killa.

We be the mighty warrior. Black nigga killa, what's up? You ready to die? You
think you can f*ck with them thug niggas? Come on, tell me the truth, nigga.
Look in my eyes. Bitch, we get live. Bone thugs-n-harmony, nigga--Cleveland's
thuggish ruggish niggas still down with the thug shit. Buck, buck, bust. Let
'em know we still run this bitch just like an assassin. Say, nigga, we nice but
can get nasty. Get into war, what else can it be? Nigga, you know what we came
here for. You know, when we shot through the door, my niggas was serious,
playin no jokes. Just 'cause I'm a rapper, you thought it's for show? Okay
nigga let's see if this a real fo'-fo'. You thought we was studio, saw us on
video, seen us in person so here we go [here we go]. What is your problem? Here
come the bullets, better dodge 'em. I sneaks up behind, so I'm f*ckin' with
killas. Nigga, don't make me kill ya. Got a bodybag for any you bitches
thinkin' you realer.

Since, we some killers for sure [sure], hit 'em up, hit 'em hard, if you ready
to roll. Niggas out tryin' to f*ck with us, but I'm givin' you one
warnin'--that's a no-no. 'Cause I got what you need if you are ready to die, to
die, to die. Nigga, bye bye. Shots might be fired. Yep. Everybody gon' run?
Naw. Shootin' at me? Better hit me or one day . Fire! Here I come, come. And
you don't wanna see. We like that [that], 'cause everybody pack guns, but Bone
go pap pap. Really just out for the money, ya'll. Really won't hurt none of
y'all, but playas went too far so I say, "f*ck y'all. f*ck y'all, y'all, y'all
haters. All, y'all, y'all, y'all haters."

killa, killa, killa, killa.

I'm servin' these bitches daily. I'm a black nigga killa--that's what you can
label me. Unfadable, see? You don't really wanna f*ck with us. You can't touch
us. You ain't able. Rest in peace. Flesh creep and sneak with a streetsweeper.
Niggas don't ever know what hit 'em. I split 'em and snatch they soul like the
Reaper. Have you ever seen a killer, dressed in a trench coat, sold over a
hundred pounds? Rollin', downin' a fifth of Rose when I stroll, and who wanna
f*ck with me now? Lay 'em all down when I creep through your town and clown. I
bet you feela this nigga behind the trigger, clack back. Stack, that black
nigga killa.

['Cause dyin' be easy.] Nigga, you know what Bone be sayin'. Rollin' with big
guns, ain't no playin', stayin' down for the murda mo', slayin'. Aw, shit. Just
to let you know, man, that 187 for realer. We black nigga killas and down to
ride for E [E]. He'd a ride for me, and that's the way it's gon' be: N.W.A,
nigga B-O-N-E. All around the world, most dangerous groups, marchin' like
troops. Lace your boots, be ready to shoot, 'cause if you ain't then a bullet
might hit you. Picture yourself in a coffin--so stiff and cold, full of
formaldehyde. Better scatter, dodge 'fore this bullet lodged in your ass,
simply for the cash. Been around the world, seen so many faces and so many
places. Aced this game, while they try to erase this daily basis. Gimme my
space, shit, show me some love, though. Just pump your fist in the air and
holler, "Mo!" Could you do me that? And I'll hit you back. Little nigga just
wanna know where my thugs at. Some at the track on the back. Oh, yes, some
niggas on corner 'r
ound sellin that crack. Some of my thugs grave long gone, lot of my niggas' at
home playin' Bone. Could they rest in peace? My niggas sleep. Makaveli, Biggie
Smalls, and Eazy-E. T-Rock got shot [T-Rock got shot]. Lord bless his city
[bless his city] thats why [why I] shoot, shoot 'em up. Shoot 'em up, shoot 'em
up. Shoot, shoot 'em up. Shoot 'em up, always [nigga], always. That's why I
shoot 'em up.

killa, killa, killa, killa.

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these lyrics are submitted by Matt the Kid
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Songwriter(s): Lenton Tereill Hutton, Stanley Howse, Steven Howse, Anthony Henderson, Justin Alonzo Moore, Charles Scruggs
Publisher(s): Dollarz N Sense Muzick, I.J.A.M. Publishing, Music Corp. Of America Inc., T-funk Music

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