I'm Killin'

[Intro:] Yo, fried turkey, I'm outchea. I'm really outchea. Turkey back game, turkey back game Stretch a four to a nine Short a million times Fuck em when they check up then go flex on I'm killin, I'm killin, Lito Crayola my cars, free Lil Boosie Keep the line around the building, got me riding around no ceiling Riding around with no feelings, if you play with me, I'm killing Make me jump out and get silly, dump out nine millies Fuck I'm talkin bout, we got big tools with the trash bags for the chopper shells Yeah, we ain't missing, but we'll leave you missing You niggas suspect, you fit the description I'm looking for a gudda bitch that can get the prescription I got them hundred dollar quarters, fuck with me One twenty at the twelve, you better have your scale You a puss, Vagisil, Massengill Your baby mama pussy had that slut bitch stashing pills If I wasn't rapping, be in traffic with them vacuum seal Pass it to the passenger for your ass get you some daffodil Riding two K fourteen, five for bout a half a mil I throw my shows like money off album sales and I don't have a deal Bitch I, bitch I grind hard, ain't much more to the story This nigga say I owe him but he couldn't be looking for me Said fuck riding foreign cause they're soldiers over there warring Mr. president, do you at least have some healthcare for him? I pay more taxes than my next door neighbor He don't get profiled So I wake up in a Bugatti, fell asleep in a dope pile This coke droppin' been going on for eight years straight Oh thrills charging twelve to my album brick blade, 'ey Then I, then I dropped my first mixtape Outer limits, prison passin, we was clubbing every day In the projects all day Shootin twenty, man whatever I came a long way, glad I got my shit together Bitch I grind hard, ain't much more to the story (niggas ain't no killers, man) Y'all niggas ain't no killers, man, y'all niggas some hoes You niggas ain't no killers, you niggas some hoes