Cordae - Killer (Remix) lyrics

Featuring , ,

Published

0 453 0

Cordae - Killer (Remix) lyrics

[Intro: Eminem & Jack Harlow] (Killer) Yeah I'm a (Boy's crazy), I'm a cold-blooded (Killer) Made all this money from doin' this (Yeah, look) ​d.a. got that dope [Chorus: Eminem] Now count it, five, ten, yeah, fifteen, twenty Twenty-five, thirty, yeah, get the money Throw it in the furnace, yeah, this sh*t be funny Earn it just to burn it, swag drip— [Verse 1: Jack Harlow] I used to rock a toboggan Headphones around my neck, tryna be like Shady Now the phone that's in my pocket seem to keep vibratin' I got all these Ronnie Bennetts tryna be my baby Tryna fiancé me I take the steering wheel and drive them girls beyond crazy (Crazy) I'm on a song with my idol I'm a cold-blooded version of the song title I put these diamonds in the ring like they was Shawn Michaels I can't put the Louis V inside the wash cycle I take this sh*t to the cleaners 'Bout to cop me a Bimmer, I got a special demeanor She was mine when I seen her, I'm gettin' meaner and meaner Called the front desk and asked for a steamer I'm a b*tch bagger, not a Twitch streamer I'm eatin' pizza in Little Italy, damn, I used to hit Caesars She 'bout to finish, but wait a minute, it gets deeper Same kid just a bit sleeker [Chorus: Eminem & Cordae] Yeah, now count it, five, ten, yeah, fifteen, twenty Twenty-five, thirty, yeah, get the money Throw it in the furnace, yeah, this sh*t be funny Earn it just to burn it (Listen, uh) [Verse 2: Cordae] They say my killing's horrendous, "How he still in the business?" Rich as hell and it's feelin' tremendous Ma dukes chillin' in Venice, compliments of her eldest descendant Give hell with these writtens, this sh*t only propel my ascension I held my position in any situation that's needed This year I'm sh*ttin' on ni**as for the way we was treated I see the impact of all my creations increasin' My step in time with these Pantheons, it all was divine I'm in this moment of my life where sh*t is fallin' in line And lookin' back, I swear to god, you'd think it all was designed A true movie script, I can't really ever fu*k no groupie b*tch All she got is diamonds on her mind on some Uzi sh*t A whole generation of geniuses I'm influencin' I only hang with real ni**as who I'm congruent with I manifest nothing less than the best outcome Just watch my moves with this next album, ni**a [Chorus: Eminem] Now count it, five, ten, yeah, fifteen, twenty Twenty-five, thirty, yeah, get the money Throw it in the furnace, yeah, this sh*t be funny Earn it just to burn it, swag drippin' from me [Verse 3: Eminem] My sentences are harsh, every single's bar's like a verdict I say it with conviction, but this time you're not gonna serve it But as soon as I read it, you know that you're about to get murdered When I cap, it'll punish, then put you in a box like a juror (Haha) If there's a rapper I haven't ate (Where?) We ain't battled, either that or they won't collaborate 'Cause pad or paper freestyle will settle that debate (Yup) I call it guillotine style 'cause even off the head, I decapitate Yeah, b*tch, I go harder than Carter III (What?) But I think your thottie just thought of me She got a body and bottom like Cardi B And she be stalking me like I was broccoli I'm getting brain now like a lobotomy You probably thinkin' you had that sh*t in the bag like it's colostomy (What?) It's a red alert, you better skrrt or try to get on my level first b*tch, I'd had to shovel dirt and dig a hole to get on yours You bum-bum (Haha), look at your broke ass (Yeah) It's why you're a bum-bum (Why?) 'cause your sh*t is so ass (Yeah) Syllable gun-guns (Chk-chk), spits and goes "Hadoo" (Doo) Only L that I ever took was when I lost Proof (Yeah) Only time that I ever got served is that lawsuit when Ma sued (What?) But, b*tch, get out of pocket and I might accost you (Accost you) Homicides up the wazoo (Chain) Chain gaudy, probably got more bodi-odi-odies than John do (John do) Just called Snoop and I talked to him (What?), we all cool (Yeah) Dre, me and the Dogg good, Doc, we got you Got a castle with a solid gold floor (What?) No I don't, I don't even got a boat nor Do I got a chauffeur, but a lot to show for You don't wanna fu*k around and start no war (Nah) Twenty more years, I could probably go for Just like your lip and you got a cold sore My sh*t is like motherfu*kin' herpes You ain't ever gonna say I don't got it no more (b*tch) Literally it's no quittin' me, you kiddin' me? Dying laughing is the only way you're killing me I'm getting rid of ya, get clapped like chlamydia The wittiest, b*tch, I'll snap like a tibia You wanna get silly with the bars? I'm frivolous But I'm as gritty and litty as my city is East side 'til I die, b*tch, I will rep 'til the end like a chameleon Got a killer instinct with the pen's ink and they're in sync like a faucet How the fu*k do I even think of this ridiculous sh*t? I'm a quarter of a century deep and I can't be beat (Nah) 'Til the day me and the grim reap meet, I'm ten toes down 'til I'm six feet deep (What?) Windows down in the Benz E jeep hollerin' at a bimbo, beep-beep-beep She said she fu*ks with the M-T-B to the M-B: Side B Slim CD I can see why you envy me, you get no ass like an empty seat (Haha) So this sh*t comes with a warning for all of you punks and you corny Little fu*ks, I woke up on my fu*k sh*t this morning [Chorus: Eminem] Now count it, five, ten, yeah, fifteen, twenty Twenty-five, thirty, yeah, get the money Throw it in the furnace, yeah, this sh*t be funny Earn it just to burn it, swag drippin' from me [Outro: Eminem & Jack Harlow] Yeah, I'm a (Killer) Yeah, I'm a what? I'm a cold-blooded (Killer)