Letras
Yeah, it's redrum where I'm from
Come get some from the sick ones
Broke-ass millionaires and rich bums
It's all a matter of how you put it all together
We the type that wear skullies in hundred-degree weather
And never sweat, nevertheless
Jealous eyes despise the A-X-E hanging around my neck, check
But we in this bitch and we be determined as fuck
Like fat kids that be chasing after the ice cream truck, what?
Now here's one for all you emcees that wanna diss
Next time you think about hating remember this
I'm out on tour in yo cities getting sick
So the next time you kiss your bitch you might taste my dick!
I am the blood that inks your pen
I am the sickness that infects your rhymes as you spit them
So as you rappers scream my name out
I'm making your tongue turn black and fall outta your mouth
It's redrum where I'm from
It's Redrum where I'm from
Wicked 3-0-3
And we W-E-S-T-S-I-D-E
It's Redrum where I'm from
Wicked 3-0-3
And we Don't, And We Don't, Don't fuck with me!
It's redrum capitol B-O-N-E-Z Dubb and he erupts
On you motherfuckers that think you got us beat
But you can't see us, (what?!)
I be the type that gotta get that paper quick
And I ain't afraid to put a red dot on your head
And drop a clip, talking shit
Stacks to watch ride off in yo griss
Grid lock when you get caught in that blood
And crip walk shit, biatch!
I'mma let this be the first time I admit
That if you come here you leave wit a pair of bloody open writsts!
Rest in Peace, no you could rest in piss
When I do this shit so sick you think my name was Brotha Lynch!
It ain't shit, I'm the grinch that lives inside your bitch
And I rob that pussy blind with a nine in my fucking dick!
It's the one that was slanging dope
Before your ass ever seen the block!
So I'mma set it off in yo head
And watch you mothafuckas stare at us
Ad just me mugg and talk
It's redrum where I'm from
I make you throw up
They knowing that I'm tore up when I show up
With murder braids and shades that's how I stay Juggalo'd up
Like shown us, deep running deep when I creep
From the 303 to the D I run with killas that never sleep
Rest In Peace listen to the Preacher when he preach
Wo when he preach, when he preach, see
Too bringing leaks see I'm the type lookin like 50 separate eyes
Out there telling my mind, you'll never be on my side
So goodbye, click Clack, pulling it back
Not in reference to the Gat I'm speakin' about my tracks
Matter of fact, I'm thinking I oughta take my rap back
It's AMB for Life and you can put that on my Axe Tat, BLAST!