Crooked I - Beautiful Murder lyrics

[Intro] Hmm, let's see - couple cyphers, couple features knocked down Nah, I ain't got no chill [Verse 1] It's a beautiful murder, go and let the murder start Lights out in the booth, you know that I prefer the dark Oh, you a soldier? Then you about to earn the purple heart Hit you with a couple of slugs, call it a work of art Beautiful murder - I'm k**in' you trap rappers and you backpackers It's a funeral, you know what I do to whack rappers And you house n***as, comin' around me tryin' to act black Well, be who you are, a black cracker It's ironic that some of my n***as is white, we n***as for life n***a we icons, bigger than life, n***a we pipe bombs Blowin' up whoever pick up the mic Lettin' that hot fire kiss 'em goodnight, n***a I'm Dylan Beautiful murder - I'm usin' the words to abuse 'em and serve 'em It's a fusion, a musical merger Bruise 'em and hurt 'em, confuse 'em, think I'm usin' a burner The music is shootin' your sternum, that's confusin' 'em further Accuse me of murder, I'm guilty as charged because I play hard Walk in your label and hit your A&R with the AR Fifteen split spleens, that's for pissin' on lyricism, that's for pissin' on big dreams Why am I so angry with it? You don't know sh** about rap, you n***as can't be critics 9 millimeter paintbrush your brains then get it Blow a portrait on the wall, look like Banksy did it Beautiful murder - chop a rapper's wig in the booth You pull up missin' your roof, but I ain't mention the coupe I mean your head blown off, body missin' it's roof I'm the illest n***a, this is the proof sh** on your group like a pitcher with diarrhea They twitchin' when I appear, in fear that I'm itchin' to fire If he say he didn't get his style from me, he's a son of a b**h and a liar Causehe know this n***a's the pioneer Beautiful murder - this sh** is so melodic The kinda sh** that you listen to while you hittin' on some chronic Ya talkin' Detox, I'm still mad about me not gettin' on the Chronic I guess n***as they didn't know that I'm it, the best on the coast for years Even though y'all n***as closed your ears, I'm still here perseverin' The industry made ghost to most my peers, while I fly over the coast in Leers Toast and cheers, but f** celebrations, I sell abrasions, contusions Transfusions needed, you're bloods oozin', you're losin' your vital signs Homicidal rhymes got my rivals dyin' by the time I spit my final line It'll be beautiful, beautiful Like an Italian silk tie, but not from Barneys, they ain't suitable For the Circle of Bosses, no squares in my office, not even a cubicle I'm back k**in' sh** as usual, hope I ain't losin' you [Outro] No chill, from now on call me No Chill SSUTT 2 times - COB, what up my COB Slaughterhouse n***a COB, n***as act like they don't know What y'all n***as don't know? Aight, I'mma just keep hittin' you motherf**ers until you find out Ain't f**ing with me, No Chill my n***a