k** Bill: The Rapper - Orange Slices lyrics

Published

0 125 0

k** Bill: The Rapper - Orange Slices lyrics

[Verse 1: k** Bill] Ayo you finna get fixed in this b**h Ain't really been giving a sh** More piff than a whip full of bricks The pivot, I live for this sh** Mixed with a flick of the BIC Picture the pixel a bit Split for the split second precision and dip in the whip Pimpin' get licked by the b**hes dripping the drip, and I'm sick You living a fictional flick I'm gripping the spliff and then split Clown-like methods, I'm down-right infection Sound biters pound? I break 'em down like Tetris The Pa**ion of the Christ I'm bu*ton-mashing looking nice In NES with two blunts: It's Double Dragon [Dragging] for the night Overstate the understated Blowing grape and f**in' jade And every rapper's trying to throw some hands and get a touch of greatness Kiss my f**ing an*s. All around the hole and sh** b**hes be like "Holy sh**! Who's that who you're rolling with?" I'm flowing til it's broken You can quote the bloke with tokens Ain't no games here, neither. b**h I'm damn near choking One blunt? Roll it Two blunts? Smoking Three blunts? Toking to the head; my mind's open Pine smoking. Why no one got a drink in their hands? Is it 'cause I'm by myself with six bullets in the cham- -Ber? Burr. Swag-stunting 101 with them And ooh, is they with you? I'd love to one-on-one with them Pimp it's KB. Tell them b**hes lay me Chain got so many rocks, you'd think I lived with Jay-Z Sippin' AZ iced-tea with the lemon in Another word for dope? k** Bill be the synonym f**ing with them sentences. Structure and usages Triple G's be the gang, boy I'm f**ing with hooligans Boy, I be rooted, and I'm so rude with the Ruger And ne'er a b**h'll walk by without at least thinking of choosing him A loser with loser-ish tendencies that just won the game A couple block-huggers get me, but the rest don't understand Not mainstream. Just a little off-center The way I make her skirt hike, I'd make a living off centers I'm quarterbacking. In the back, I'm quarter-bagging With a sack of yellow and green sh**, you'd swear I was born a Packer. Wow On fire like spontaneous combustion Y'all hating on me, cousin. Boy, stop playing, B. I'm busting Bet I wet eyes. That youngin with the red eyes Collision with the beast I'm beating, crashing like I'm Left-Eye Rest in peace. I'll f**ing take the rest and peace And I'm gonna box 'em, leave 'em flotsam Watch them haters sweat, I'm Keith Keith Sweat. No singers here. Authentic, yeah What I make off little beats combined could eat your fiscal year So confident. My self-esteem's peaking Hell-bound rapper: boy, my welcome team's demons [Interlude: k** Bill talking] I'm done! [Engineer talking] Wait, for real? [k** Bill talking] N-no...no. One more. I got one more [Engineer talking] That's what I thought [Verse 2: k** Bill] I hit 'em with a little bit of venom in the middle With the bars, so sick. f** bar-code sh** Smoking up a little bit of SARS, oh sh** With the marble kicks. Stone feet on beat, b**h k** Bill on the beat, still real in the streets Gangrene's that clique fasho Still making this music. Drug Influenced Why this sh** so cold? I'm one-hundred percent not done with this sh** Still bump in the whip. Pump, pump, pumping your chicken Instru-flipping. I'm pimping it. Never slipping, wow Eyes ripping out their sockets for profit I'm putting on for ne'er image, like Muhammad the Prophet Outside the box, and I'm boxing, outfoxing the foxes I'ma swang down, candy paint Which I lane-switch on 'em [Outro: k** Bill talking] Hey, have you guys ever heard the joke Where k** Bill came on the mic And he had so much f**ing swag that everyone died? The end

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.