Killaman - My Life [Ft. 4LW]

[Verse 1: Killaman]

 

Yo, if you really tryna see me,

don't open your fucking eyes but listen and try to feel me.

Try to stand in my position, try to fucking be me,

Bringing you back in time on the streets where I tried to promote my CD.

Niggas didn't feel it, but I ain't on that quitting shit,

I ain't tryna seal it.

If I saw something money-ish I'd try to steal it.

Boy I was twelve when I was offered my first job,

Brother from my neighbour wanted me to rob,

I gave him that rejection, felt good cause I was a part of his selection,

But actually started helping him cause I liked his watch reflection.

You see I followed money, I wasn't on that big dream shit.

No, I wouldn't really fit in Meek Mill's dream scene, shit.

Money is the motivation and now we bringing revolution,

Money is power and that protects you from an execution.

Money reveals everything like a HD resolution.

You say you rich I bet that's an illusion.

I was fourteen when I actually started to sell shit, man I was proud.

Not the volume of your speakers, but yeah it was that loud.

Money kept coming so I tried to step up my game,

held some straps, people started to fear my name.

And I was only fifteen, I had a lot of customers, they all fiends.

A friend's mother found messages and she snitched it seems,

was for the better because it helped me find my team.

Fuck dream's, I ain't reaching for these.

 

[Verse 2: 4LW]

 

Here doin’ this collab with Killaman, taking shits on the stone slabs, at your mum and dads/

Fuckin’ daddy coming out, lil’ bit maddy sayin’ I’m acting faggy/

What that’s not a word? Fuck that, I’m Four Letter Word, I invent words/

Striving towards, setting more, motherfucking records/

Taking down this house of lords, I’ve subliminally scored, against you all/

But not receiving any awards, and every time one of you niggas applauds/

I just fucking laugh at the irony afterwards, because the absolute majority are being dissed, but don’t know it, so they ignore/

I don’t show these train of thoughts, because I can be a prick, drive people to the brim, until they can’t take it anymore/

Eat these bitches alive like dip sims. I’m so grim, people call me the grim reaper, stealing your soul and even going deeper/

In-fact, I’m a mind reader, I see the time when you got jacked by your math teacher and I put it into a rhyme/

My rhymes mix like lemon and lime, put it on this track to show I’m in my prime-time/

I butcher a nursery rhyme so much, some would call it a crime, a crime I’m committing with my partner in crime/

Me and Killaman, taking on the Republic of Sudan, killin’ shit left, right and centre, like I’m spilling blood in Afghanistan/

I’m sick of all these motherfucking Stan’s and Eminem fans, people starting to get gay for men when they look at him/

I like Em too, but I don’t worship Slim and I wouldn’t go out on a limb to say I would fight a war for him,

Just because people have different opinions…This is why you Stan’s are known as minions/

And too many fucks treating hip-hop as a competition, like they are fighting for positions as politician’s/

Fucking villains and posers, beat them a billion times over, smoke them like a stoner, this shit gives them a boner/