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JOEY BADA$$ – Killuminati

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 INTRO Bm
Strawberries

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I'm a beast with these flows
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Two birds, one stoned, you get geese’d when trees rolled
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They say I'm evil cause I trained my ego to see gold
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Cause he know, seagulls couldn't see these goals, please
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It's the return of the beast coast
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No cash flashed, but the cheese still make teeth show
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Incognito, is how you move on the strip
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What you trynna be Vito? Well there's rules to this shit
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Don't get clapped, ya'll ain't real spitters, ya'll lips chapped
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Better watch it, Mr. Nicewatch, don't risk that
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I got a 6 pack of bare skill that I spill like that
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And everybody know (That shit crack!)
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Ya'll niggas softspoken, down below choking
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The type to drop the soap when you soakin' in front of most men
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There's makes sense why you want beef, well this frozen
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It's nuts for you screwed in the tool, and can't hold em
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Better shoot yourself Plaxico, because I'm next to go
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The Progressive flows from New York to New Mexico
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My lyrical span is what the fans is demandin'
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Step into my box and that's exactly what'chu stand in
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Ain't no half steppin' around me
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And you gotta drown a fish before you clown me
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The young cop killer, I'm dat ill, so doc' will ya
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Give me two shots for 2Pac killer....nigga

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Soul searchin' 'till my flows are perfect
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I ain't trynna be a slave to grow old from workin'
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Sorry BADA$$, you lucky that I peeped it second
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Tell them niggas keep it steppin' with they beat selection
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Check the melodies, it's so heavenly
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That shit'll get your hipster move with no 7D's
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Audi-opium, can I bust soliloquies
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Got that shit mix and mastered both remedies
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Grab a spoonful, we sturrin' up a pot
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And you know we gotta serve it while it's hot
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I'm flowin' like a volcano and drippin' verses off the top
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Dirty cops still swervin' on the block
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Lookin' for black kids, that spittin' up acid
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It's in my jeans so don't worry where my parents is
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Get with the script it's that ignorant shit
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And they bound to get sick of us quick but I ain't sealin' my lips
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It's a shift, I know you feel it man
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We blowin' up like a ceiling fan
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Droppin' off jewels like Killa Cam's man
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When it comes to kickin' verses I'm Mr. Van Damme
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Crushin' strawberries it's a jam
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So throw up both hands if you can
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Ironic how I'm killin' this shit, until they bury me
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My volume is going in depth with longevity
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