Malik Q - 500 Degrees

Keep the block hot, like we from Louisiana
Homicide inside my head, imma squeeze the hammer
Getting high to ease the pain while dreaming of the glamour
Slur my words, pardon me I'm fucking up my grammar
Killer instinct running deep in my blood
Coke in my nose, I'm trying to get a buzz
It's time for murder, too late for the hugs
Your body devoured and hit with the slugs
It's a midwest murder when I come through and spray shit
Shooting 'till they dead, imma empty the whole Kay clip
Got yo' bitch praising on my dick, call me Saint Nick
Hanging with the killers, I'm the wrong one to play with
Get your head split like a Swisher
It's a bloodbath when we hit ya, bitch you can't run, we gone get ya
Cigarrete smoke in my lungs, make it all grey
Creeping out the cut, leave you hanging off a tree like a fall day
Shooters by my side, make 'em all spray
Try to cancel me like a fog day
You don't want smoke, bitch
Pass me the blunt back, fuck that
Mac lay you down, you can't bust back
Leave your body twitching like you streaming, chop you into pieces
You don't want beef, you a vegan, drugs got me fiending
Smoking on Runtz pack, keep me a Tommy, ain't talking Rugrats
Fuck the world
They say I'm the spawn of Satan, hear the sound
I can't stand this world we live in, bury me into the ground
Aye

Written by:
Malik Qaimari

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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