Wamp Wamp Flow by Killa Kyleon Lyrics
(*talking*)
Yeah that's right, Killa ay
[Hook]
You know I roll up, with the purp' po'd up
Bucket of ice on my chest, got me froze up
I got the fifth down, top fold up
Yeah bitch I'm riding around, with my nose up
I'm switching lanes mayn, what it do
I got my hand on the grain mayn, what it do
I'm pop trunk full of bang mayn, what it do
My Cadillac on swangs mayn, that's what it do
[Kyleon]
Bullets'll push your T, when Killa empty the clips
And that's for real, no not for real no that's the steel
I'm from trillville, for real where niggas will kill
For a hot meal, they'll show you how that Glock feel
Cop a chopper, put a boy in his place
Fuck fifty you cheap, without the scar on your face
They say actions speak louder than words, but I ain't talking to ya
I just put one off into your eye, bring your coffin to ya
Lights out, meet the reaper sing your lullaby
Slow singing flower bringing, watch your mother cry
I'm a smooth criminal, I'm not Mike Jack but some'ing like that
But I don't want your dope or your dollas, I want your life black
The Mac'll have you running back, we call it craw-fishing
Not a bar missing on a mission, to meet the mortition
I make a movie out him, meet your audition
Run the clip Rogers, now the boy twitching
[Hook]
[Kyleon]
The boy Killa spit infection, through your ear lobe
He's nothing like them, so they label him weirdo
Y'all spit it so sloppy, but I speak it so clear though
H.D. fuck with me, your wife'll be a widow
Stacks on deck, lay your head on my pillow
I hear you getting money, well dido
Flow sick, so label it hot spitto
Y'all softer than Spongebob, the boy Killa brillow negro
Show stopper brick buster, and a blow rocker
Pull up on fo' choppers, get your bopper
I do the beat smoke chronic, but I'm no Dr
Speak bad english, yeah but my flow proper
Bullshit walk, money do a fo' and a forty
Fucking with mine, and you can get your four out of forty
Killa's a winner, you just a zero and a forty
Think you fucking with me, you must be on dro and Bacardi
[Hook]
Yeah that's right, Killa ay
[Hook]
You know I roll up, with the purp' po'd up
Bucket of ice on my chest, got me froze up
I got the fifth down, top fold up
Yeah bitch I'm riding around, with my nose up
I'm switching lanes mayn, what it do
I got my hand on the grain mayn, what it do
I'm pop trunk full of bang mayn, what it do
My Cadillac on swangs mayn, that's what it do
[Kyleon]
Bullets'll push your T, when Killa empty the clips
And that's for real, no not for real no that's the steel
I'm from trillville, for real where niggas will kill
For a hot meal, they'll show you how that Glock feel
Cop a chopper, put a boy in his place
Fuck fifty you cheap, without the scar on your face
They say actions speak louder than words, but I ain't talking to ya
I just put one off into your eye, bring your coffin to ya
Lights out, meet the reaper sing your lullaby
Slow singing flower bringing, watch your mother cry
I'm a smooth criminal, I'm not Mike Jack but some'ing like that
But I don't want your dope or your dollas, I want your life black
The Mac'll have you running back, we call it craw-fishing
Not a bar missing on a mission, to meet the mortition
I make a movie out him, meet your audition
Run the clip Rogers, now the boy twitching
[Hook]
[Kyleon]
The boy Killa spit infection, through your ear lobe
He's nothing like them, so they label him weirdo
Y'all spit it so sloppy, but I speak it so clear though
H.D. fuck with me, your wife'll be a widow
Stacks on deck, lay your head on my pillow
I hear you getting money, well dido
Flow sick, so label it hot spitto
Y'all softer than Spongebob, the boy Killa brillow negro
Show stopper brick buster, and a blow rocker
Pull up on fo' choppers, get your bopper
I do the beat smoke chronic, but I'm no Dr
Speak bad english, yeah but my flow proper
Bullshit walk, money do a fo' and a forty
Fucking with mine, and you can get your four out of forty
Killa's a winner, you just a zero and a forty
Think you fucking with me, you must be on dro and Bacardi
[Hook]