Uh, I learnt the game, I know what I want and I'm in it My time is now and it's gonna be up in a minute You look a nigga in the eye, you could tell if he tinted These fake rappers gettin' by with these hell of a gimmicks They act like it's all love, only love is your money So when it's over, nigga, are you a thug or a dummy? I'm neither, but I been hot so long It feels like I got a lifetime fever Now I ain't gotta spit, I could cough and still eat ya Oh, fuck rap, I make mills of reefer I'm a man first, tired of punchin' niggaz So I'ma shoot niggaz 'cuz my hands hurt And God is great, guard ya space One hand wash the other, both wash the face And I had crack so much, it's hard to ace 38 revolver flow, it's hard to trace, what Fuck that, pop off till nothin' in the clip left (Pop off) Till nobody in his clique left (Nobody) Hole in the head, slashed or the split chest Uh, if they ask what happened (Tell 'em it's the kiss of death) Hustle hard till none of them bricks left (Nothin' left) Stick it up till not a crumb on the strip left (Take that, take that) Make sure ain't a chain or a chip left (Uh, uh) If they asked what happened (Tell 'em it's the kiss of death) Tell 'em Kiss, the kiss of death This is lox ville and even white America Let y'all negros know Jada got skill You a jackass like Johnny Knoxville So I can just imagine how ya pop's feel, damn And you ain't worth my shells, no So you should just imagine how the Ak feel A lotta niggaz is thousandnaires, where? Walkin' 'round town, frontin' like they got millz For what it's worth, I'm one myself But my strength in the hood outruns my wealth But you still might catch Kiss in some hot wheels New Bentley coupe with the stock wheels Haha, look how I get back to it I send my young niggaz to do it, in the black Buick I don't spit bars, I distribute the crack fluid All I'm really waitin' is for niggaz to act stupid Fuck that, pop off till nothin' in the clip left (Pop off) Till nobody in his clique left (Nobody) Hole in the head, slashed or the split chest Uh, if they ask what happened (Tell 'em it's the kiss of death) Hustle hard till none of them bricks left (Nothin' left) Stick it up till not a crumb on the strip left (Take that, take that) Make sure ain't a chain or a chip left (Uh, uh) If they ask what happened (Tell 'em it's the kiss of death) Tell 'em Kiss, the kiss of death To all my real niggaz, sorry for keepin' you waitin' It's ironic, but the God was beefin' with Satan I love y'all tho, my niggaz for even relatin' This ain't Kiss talkin' neither, I'm speakin' for Jason When you a problem it's harder to keep them from hatin' Niggaz jaws is like laws, don't easy to break 'em If I wasn't on some shit, I'm gettin' on it Come to me with ya hand out, I'm spittin' on it I don't wanna hear what happened, matter of fact I don't even care what happened here Might as well declare the clappin', 'cuz my bones is old Gotta lotta wear and tear from scrappin' Hate a nigga that ain't never there to see shit But always hear what happened The only thing better than money, is respect No love this time, nigga, kiss of death, what Fuck that, pop off till nothin' in the clip left (Pop off) Till nobody in his clique left (Nobody) Hole in the head, slashed or the split chest Uh, if they ask what happened (Tell 'em it's the kiss of death) Hustle hard till none of them bricks left (Nothin' left) Stick it up till not a crumb on the strip left (Take that, take that) Make sure ain't a chain or a chip left (Uh, uh) If they asked what happened (Tell 'em it's the kiss of death) Tell 'em Kiss, the kiss of death © EMI APRIL MUSIC INC.; UNIVERSAL MUSIC CORP.; PANIRO'S PUBLISHING; JAE'WON PUBLISHING; SWIZZ BEATZ PUBLISHING; JUSTIN COMBS PUBLISHING INC; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com