Oklaney - Killa (feat. Mac-11++)

They call me killa but I'm no killa
The only thing I am is illa
It make em bitter
I put my drip on imma dripper
Not like a stripper
They on the pole and I'm the tipper
I stuff they zipper
I told myself it's time to go and kicked myself right out the door
They asked me Laney are you bout your money or you bout them hoes
I told em get up out my business and don't talk about my dough
And if you wanna talk about me then why the fuck are you broke
Ayy pause this song real quick if you ain't got no money in you pocket
I'm just playing but I hate a bum who ain't worried bout no profit
All the opportunities in the world and your resume still say wanted
If you don't get up off yo ass then you gon end up on rock bottom
And I know some people butthurt they gon say my music trash
Why would I ever give a fuck when I know that they just mad
People talk shit for no reason and I find that really sad
So imma keep on making music and them hoes can kiss my ass
Mac 11 oklaney your favorite dynamic duo
We on the beat no space to breath like we just came from fuckin Pluto
A different breed it's him and me you can call us numero uno
If imma spaz then he gon match my energy we deserve kudos
Ayy go Mac
Naw on her liver
With my dick up in her
For you to hush would be so clever
You make me bitter
Before my fist and yo face go scissor
And the snakes begin to slither
Till the floodgates in yo face begin to tether
Away away
Have a nigga thanking god he ain't die today
Pussy ass niggas be soft like just clay
Gotta pole in the back it'll spray raid
I'm either with my bae
Or rolling big blunts wit my mf fangs
He be in the house wen dawgs come out to play
This nigga a pussy I can never see how his ass got laid
Bow and arrow to ya throat
Peel his skin let his true colors show
She'll keep a secret till the day that she croaks
Cause she can't take the thought of being broke
Bow and arrow to ya throat
Peel his skin let his true colors show
She'll keep a secret till the day that she croaks
Cause she can't take the thought of being broke
They call me killa
Because I'm realer
I got all these bum bitches bitter
Need baby sitters
I'm on the neck just like a chocker
They call me joker
I'm laughing in their face I'm evil
Should be illegal
My heart so cold just like a villain
Just call me venom
I'm dressed in all black I'm still drippin'
Break through your kitchen
Ayy fuck it tho I'm tryna get it
Big dreams their vivid
Imagination for me different
I'm tryna live it

Written by:
Laney Iverson, Mac 11

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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