KADAFI - Killing Fields lyrics

rate me

Hey who ya'll wanna fuck?

K say he wanna fuck da brat

Yak said he wanna fuck somebody in the?

That nigga malc said he wanna fuck a leo, fuck it

Mutah said he wanna fuck Toni Braxton like a muthafucker hahahaha

That's right nigga, get paid

Who's that?

Big Malcolm

Living like a G

Hollywood

Up top with a 5th of Hennessey

Mutah

Said you love beating bitches live

K-Dog

On the real gettin high

Label us the young thugs

Niggas leave with much mail

Fuck hoes, fuck the law, and fuck jail

Young niggas never had a prayer to prevail

These killing fields can be hell

You see it's uh complicated

We grew up crime related

From watchin them old folks smoke dope

Yo it left us faded

But on the kiling fields

As real as some niggas chill

Realize and recognizin

You survive if you got bigger steel

Then it was only a minute till our time was coming

Yo it was at the point

Don't have no run ins with those fucking youngins

See all the grown ups was dead or smoked up

Left with no game to soak up

We said fuck it and loc'd up

Back to the street to escape it

And to make beats

But then there would be those who'd be rich if we didn't did it

Murder but ain't nobody feel us

Still now it's too late

We ain't nothing but bait for them killin fields

Gotta keep my eyes on the steal

Can't be the victim but killing fields

But if I must, then I guess I just will

So I'm a bust, and kick dust when it is

Gotta keep my eyes on the steal

Can't be the victim but killing fields

But if I must, then I guess I just will

So I'm a bust, and kick dust when it is

I came through lookin up to who

The high rollers with the gold chains

But now as I look back and think about my wishes

Seeing them same killin niggas turn to snitches

So I stay high and suspicious

Oh these fields can get real fuckin vicious

I know you feel me

If you nigga how you can't

I'm gettin hot and lick a shot when I'm amped

And I ain't got nothing on my mind but my riches

Bury me a G ain't got time for no bitches (biatch)

Thinkin they fuckin with a nigga on heels

Baby I must keep it real

For my niggas on these killin fields

Now I can get through this

Ain't nothing to this

Matter of fact many if not plenty more

Muthafuckas be alive

If they knew this

I keeps my shit wicked

Throw your hands in the muthafuckin air as I kick it

Tryin to see a meal ticket before I'm gone

Papa never got the chance to tell me it was on

So now I? m torn

Trapped between the devils curse and a hearse

Left with nothing but childhood pictures in my grandmamas purse

Now I strap up for the showdown

Grab my four pound and some more rounds

Bet these thugs would love to slug

So get low down

Words can't express how I feel for my steel

On these muthafuckin killin fields