Instrumenty
Ensembles
Opera
Kompozytorzy
Wykonawcy

Teksty: Prodigy. New Yitty.

KILLA!

[Prodigy:]
Yeah, look here man
Every time the ball drop on New Years Eve
We toast to more money, we smoke to more cheese
Burn this one for beating my case
Then pop me another bottle and keep celebrating
When I'm always waiting for niggas to front
So I keep me a banger, catch a stunt if you want
Be like Super Dave, you fucked up
Flat out on the concrete they peeled you up like the cartoons
But this ain't fake, nah this is gon' hurt
And you gon' feel pain
I'm the results of slavery and poverty
You had the drugs and guns to equal to P
Watch how every time the drama pop off I'm on top
The niggas try that with' me and get shot
Ayo my donuts, dunn I got dumb out money
Wild paper, you niggas better run now from me

[Chorus x2: Prodigy]
New Yitty, my hand's never gritty
I'll send the young boy to destroy every living
Think outside, do inside the place
I'll just do it my self, can never be too safe out here in

[Prodigy:]
Yeah, yeah, every time I'm around my G
You know P drop that fire, ah I drop heat
Too hot to handle; too cold to hold
This two-hundred thousand on my wrist bone
This is .22 long right by the hipbone
And I got the bullets with the x's and o's
On the tips I'll shoot you in the lips
Speaking on my name just so you could get a spin
(KILLA!) Couple spins, this nigga is wack
You's a ugly dipshit, the black Craig Mack
I'm a handsome shooter, I'll simple clutch the ruger
And blow your bummer clout rot face to Bermuda
I'm a mobster, with' the two B's front to O
You pull my foul, all you gon' see is gold
And platinum music, homey go make a hit
With 15 minutes of fame consider it a gift

[Chorus x2: Prodigy]