Kevin Gates - Intro (Murder For Hire) lyrics

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Kevin Gates - Intro (Murder For Hire) lyrics

[Intro: DJ Holiday] Reportin’ live from the top of the mixtape food chain Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, I still see you little n***as down there Prayin’ and hopin’ this sh** and you better kiss my crown, n***a I raised you little n***as, Kevin Gates, DJ Holiday, my summer [Verse 1: Kevin Gates] Out my top, motherf** that sh**, street n***a, not a g**ner In the hood, n***as bang daily Caught ‘caine-slangin’ was a game changer Thank God nobody shat stankin’, Carolina, Street, me and Spanky Pit bulls in the yard, Luca murder streak goin’ hard Boulevard male on a call, I’m about to buy the boulevard Band-Aid jaws full of boilin’ water, watch it melt down to the hall Lip quick, say he whooped a charge I got mocha, give me it wit’ the fall n***a touch juice, they got to fall But this sicker, I want to see ’em ball Twenty-fives bouncin’ off the wall Straight-up player, amazin’, I’m a dog Fronted Madd Marvin, that’s a nine, Cedric Tesco on the line Told Birdman, ‘I don’t get tired’, he say, ‘It’s too much at one time’ Young and thuggin’, really came from nothin’ I just want to see my n***as shine [Interlude: Kevin Gates] Believe that, you know, me and Bryan Thompson We in the room talkin’, I was still in the street ‘Round the time I first had Colin jump the deal You heard me? He said that me don’t get a n***a outlet I’m like, ‘sh**, my little n***a come form nothin’ I want to see him shine (Turn up) [Verse 2: Kevin Gates] Face car worth a million, Br-Breadwinners in the buildin’ All in rap I got to do is play wit’ me and it’s ’bout to be a k**in’ Why I don’t f** wit’ n***as on the murder team? Homicide division, murder scene Industry been f**ed up wit’ me, rap game I been murderin’ f**-f**-n***a, you a hater, behold fillet with the table Just told Luci I’m a gangsta, step game sub-major Jumpin’ on the phone, he out (-), n***a, (-) and I’m slangin’ Oscar (-), you a real n***a, Breadwinner Gang, no changin’ Hit Jonesboro wit’ Jamalo Lee, hold up, let me give an illustration Oscar get it in, work release, say the wrong thing, he’ll stank you Demonstration, Billy Gateses, extra big dog, why he fakin’? You a real n***a, n***a died, you won’t even look me in the eyes n***a, p**y all in your a**, yeah, I said it, what, you surprised? My momma know I done k**ed n***as n***a been ready for the dead