Killa

my name is no killa, young fella hillside stigma

alias hallow points, loaded up chrome, bust thru a fakers dome

raised in a hillside gang, feel no pain

runnin my gang at a quick pace.

as i penetrate flesh n bone out the 409

the streets of my neighborhood are viccious to mankind,

revenge on a youngsters mind, pull the trigger

release anger, from the double O' chamber

creepin slow, aimin slow mo

smoke out the barrol on my pistol

push out lead, out my enemies flesh

watch his chest bust, walls covered in red.

fool take a deep breath!

heart beat pounding, niggas last words was Gauguin

pistol shots thundering, homeboys runnin and cockin

I PAUSE, what the fuck could i do?

-If i make the wrong move,I'll end up pushing daises

reflection of death is on my way

the reason why i hide a Glock under my pillow case

just in case the bitch want to stake me

in an up state penitentiary, sentenced a twentieth century

dressed up sporting Ben Davis,

keep my gang tight, flashing lights

gotta check the gate twice, on a late night

gotta cock the nine, cock the nine