Killer Mike, DJ Q-Bert and Run the Jewels - Pew Pew Pew

I'm a rider and provider and I don't tolerate ho shit
I Bun B out on emcees meaning I obliterate yo' shit
Man, every time I try to like a rapper they turn and do ho shit
Make me ski mask on they a-a-ass, run they jewels and mo shit

You looking at the guy who the guy that you think that
I got my style from got his own style from ('sup?)
I came with a sly wink and a shit grin with a pimp limp and a foul tongue
I'm a Brooklyn son, set adrift in a chemtrail sky
Bad guys knock when the doors are locked, I got no shots left, better prep for God
Not long, He'll be talkin the same shit, I am just impossible
Got a right to be hostile, motherfucker life is a coffin, layin' down in it ain't awesome
Every single moment you spend in the dirt is a worse time than the last moment, own it
We all know you don't know shit (no shit!)
Me and Mike will straight write your obit

And the obit goes like this: "Here lies a punk bitch, real fuck boy type
Who never want shit, 'bout as soft as his momma's own tit"
And sensitive as his old lady's clit, real bust-out bitch
She fuck my clique, obscene, absurd with the words
I cleaned up curbs with the blood and the bones of you nerds
I kill with the mic and murder with words
I'm known on the corners where murders occur, I cruise in the verse where murderers lurk
When god in the building, who they gonna hurt

Not a butterfly, bunny, bee, bird bein' hurt
Got a third-rock-from-the-sun claim for the turf
Never learned how to love, gimme brain then it burnt
Yeah that hurts, but at worst it will already start
With a curse in the heart that'll hurt til it's worse

Bttt Stick, Bttt Stick!
Let that four-fifth turn and twist em
If they all got the mark we miss em
I pray death come quick and kiss em
If he need help I assist him
Follow? All of my tips is hollow
I could kill your ass today but right now I'm playin' Grand Theft Auto
Brain check
I'm just come through your hood, and just shoot your ass tomorrow
Brain dead
Scattered over the hood of my old lady's brand new auto
Man, knew I should have kept it G and drove my Monte Carlo
It got like this, it shake in pieces, I shoot your ass again tomorrow
Bang!

Ok, I'm an asshole, kiss me (good luck!)
Break a leg in a bear trap, skippy
Wasn't in class when the lunch bell rang
Due to Colt 45 plus smoke got shitty
Mike already a help assist with me
Tag team of the goddamn century
I never asked for shit, it ain't in me
You go to work now, but the style haunts history
No doubt I'm a dick, fuck with me
Liberty bell cracked, the cops aren't kidding
The rabbit in the hat is all deaf now, ain't it?
Came for the freedom, stayed for the prison
Came for the women, stayed for the money
Presidents are better worth dead to feed tummies
You came for the brains, but you stayed for the fucking
The money's by the side of the bed, it ain't nothing

Written by:
MICHAEL SANTIGO RENDER, JAIME MELINE, RICHARD QUITEVIS

Publisher:
Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Royalty Network, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.

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