We Write The Songs - KIllarmy, 9th Prince

Yeah, what’s up?

Live from muthafucking L. A

Uh-huh, the streets is mine, oh, word, it’s like that?

Word up, all you fake ass gangsta niggas, yeah

Put a fucking grenade in your fucking mouth

Yeah, aight, yeah, Leggezin, 9th Prince

We write the songs that make the whole world sing

We write the songs that make you pop them thangs

We write the songs, we write the songs

Yo, it’s all about white tees, fly kicks and jeans

By any means, forever we scheme and get that cream

Rap is like crack, like Fat Cat, we keep feeding the fiends

Who’s the hypest MC?

9th Prince or Jay-Z

Never seem to amaze me, my raps getting more plays than glaze the streets

9th Prince the general, ya’ll more like rookies

Sweet like LL Cool J cookies

I’m the amazing, the only rap man, that ever ran with Harley Davidson

You got these bitch niggas, wannabe rich niggas

Gold diggers and itchy triggers

Out to make a billion out of seven figures

Yo, ya’ll niggas is sweet like candy

This is for my nigga Sandy

9th Prince is found one deep, creep through these dark streets

With a nine and bible, stashed in the passenger seat

Aiyo, we gladiators, stampede the streets

Egyptian techniques, my father named me Kato

Must of drunk, buggin' out off some flicks by Bruce Lee

Verbal holocaust, niggas be calling me Hitler

The black Texas Chainsaw Massacrew

Madison Square, party crasher

Lamping at the Summerfield suits, in too deep

Watch me creep, with automatic weapons

Lift your feet off the concrete, the New York City terrorist

Planting bombs like Saddam

Grenade white gold charm, holding my dick, talking to police

With firearm in my palm, but I’m still calm