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cocaine krueger - ran$om كلمات أغنية

[intro: boondock saints (1999)]

_where’s my cat?
_i k!lled your cat, you druggie b_tch
_why?
_i felt it would bring closure to our realtionship
_you k!lled my.. my..
_your what? your f_cking what? huh? your what, b_tch?
i shoot myself in the head, you can tell that cat’s name
go ahead, your what? your precious little..
_skippy
_oh jesus, what color was it, b_tch!?
_why you f_cking yelling like that, you pr_ck?
_shut your fat ass, ranni, i can’t buy a pack of smokes without running into 9 guys you’ve f_cked

[verse]

stickin’ this knife in your chest and you easily bleedin’
all in the mud covered in blood

busta becoming a victim
don’t even know why
i think it is all because i just be gettin’ so high
and i think about all of the bustas that done did me wrong

hop in the whip and i’m poppin’ the clip
as i’m droppin’ some sh_t outside on his front lawn
and that b_tch almost gone, he can barely hang on
and i’m thinkin’ he ain’t gonna last too much longer
i speed down the street after dumpin’ the heat in the river
i saw on the news he a goner
i wonder why they lookin’ deep in that part of the woods
nothing out there that could’ve be wrong

i get away smooth, light up the blunt
took out the punk, and it was an honor

put him on the altar thinking that i oughta sn_tch his soul
go through all his dough and pop his head then i kidnap his hoe
ransom looking handsome i ain’t even have to blast a hoe
double homicides on both these straps [?], don’t you tell a soul

get ’em snowed
love out here straight handtrick, ain’t no love from me
stick to myself, under my deck
won’t hesitate to put suffering all in your life

how about today?
how ’bout tonight? how’bout tomorrow?
b_tch, what would you like?

my breakfast will probably be catchin’ you slippin’
the blood on your [?]

made a redlight, [?] through the night just like a [?]
walk ’em down, oh yes i did, i heard that boy got ana, ay
shred you wit’ da ak with a banana clip, ay
slippin’ in yo blood like im slippin’ on banana peels
all these suckas thinkin’ they can handle this
hope the dope [?]
you’re dragged off to the floor, i had to k!ll a man again
that rigor mortis got ’em lookin’ like a mannequin

- cocaine krueger

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