LYRICS
Use A− / A+ to adjust text sizeKiller
Yeah, it's crazy, I'm a (Killer)Made all this money from doin' thisD. A. got that dopeNow count it, five, ten, yeah, fifteen, twentyTwenty-five, thirty, yeah, get the moneyThrow it in the furnace, yeah, this shit be funnyEarn it just to burn it, swag drippin' from meThat's what I do with money, got money up the assCall it toilet paper, yeah, flushed with cashGirl, nice butt, is it up for grabs?Just wanna touch your ass, is that too much to ask? YeahI made it grip, I know it's tough to grasp, get the bagCall it potato chips, I stuff in duffel bagsIn some public transportation shit, 'cause I will bust your assGet the chain, I'm off the trailer hitch, I got a bunch of swagNow count it, five, ten, yeah, fifteen, twentyTwenty-five, thirty, yeah, get the moneyThrow it in the furnace, yeah, this shit be funnyEarn it just to burn it, swag drippin' from meYeah, I'm a (Killer)Yeah, I'm a (What?) , I'm a (What?) , I'm a (Killer)Yeah, look, yeahMy income is all that amends, umGirl, your man is nincompoop, a symptomOf a simp 'cause he spent some new to get someAsk for me, I'm with Kim Jong-Un, a pimp sonSwag dripping, I'm in a pubWent up to this chick, who was so tipsy, we went to hugEnded up tripping, I picked her upShe yelled out it's her birthdayShe's fifty and in the clubThen it comes on (Yeah) , then in the club's up (Yah)She's a buzz saw (What?) , we goin' numb score (Uh)I live on the edge, she's a jump off (Yeah)Call her Cinderella (Why?) , she loves balls (Oh)Now count it, five, ten, yeah, fifteen, twentyTwenty-five, thirty, yeah, get the moneyThrow it in the furnace, yeah, this shit be funnyEarn it just to burn it, swag drippin' from meYeah, I'm a (Killer)Attack like the RipperAll over the track doin' laps like a stripperNow (Now) , now (Now) , we'll vow (Vow) it out (Out)Rap circles around ('Round) , surround sound (Sound)John Rambo's back and my ammo stackedAnd I'm cocking rap, some on your headOther words, I'm stocking caps and I'm talking factsLike office maxNever down, I'll be up like an insomniacGirl, I got racks you gotta rackHow you got all that back and no body fatI'm in awe with thatWhen I stop the Pontiac at the laundry mat that I saw you atYou almost had a heart attack when you met CardiacYou ran inside, told your boyfriend like, "I'll be back"But for all you know I probably act like I'm Daniel WozniakI'm a psycho-chopathic killerI'm a capular caterpillarWith the botanic of bananas you ain't never heard better vernacular comin after your scapularFor the lack of a better word Dracula'Cause I'm attackin' a rapper in the phrenic nerveI'm a savage back, put the dagger in the back of competitorsPredator and scavengerI am a carnivore in a ball, at the dollar storeWhat the fuck you got a wallet for? Y'all are poorI was livin' in squalor but uh-uh, not no moreNow I'm the one they holla forFuckin' shit up like a dinosaur in a China storeBitch, I'm number five— (What?) —minus four (Haha)Now count it, five, ten, yeah, fifteen, twentyTwenty-five, thirty, yeah, get the moneyThrow it in the furnace, yeah, this shit be funnyEarn it just to burn it, swag drippin' from meYeah, I'm a (Killer)Yeah, I'm a (What?) , I'm a (What?) , I'm a (Killer)Yeah(Woah)(Woah)
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