Question Lyrics

Question Lyrics

[CHORUS]
To all the industry clown ass rappers and the hip hop guys I
Just got one question that I really wana ask u (what's that?)
How many guns do you own?
And boxes of ammo do u got stored up in ya home?
How many suits and ties do u got for your diguise?
When u runnin from the cops in the muthaf**kin night sky?
Sweved off liquor ya you came sick but where the f**k
U think I came up with the name SMI click?
[VERSE 1: D0c2ce]
The walls closin in demons heard wut I said
So they backed off and let me hold weapons instead
I got my middle fingers up f**k life in the club
Rather be a soldier in the mountains wit my sniper when the time comes
Go hard is my only choice rippin your esophagus out
Leave you mute don't need to hear your voice
I'm heated like a lava pool opposite of cool
Wolverine caged in the muthaf**kin zoo
Let me loose I don't do this for the rappin
I do this cuz the musical demons everynight wake me up laughin
Bombs, acid, and hollows in this muthaf**ka
Yeah keep tha buck sharp if I need ta buck ya
Wrote my first rap when I was 11 lightin
My homies garage on fire knew I wasn't destined for heaven
Somebody felt my hate women and men walked away
Good ima need alota space f**k you games
[CHORUS]
To all the industry clown ass rappers and the hip hop guys I
Just got one question that I really wana ask u (what's that?)
How many guns do you own?
And boxes of ammo do u got stored up in ya home?
How many suits and ties do u got for your diguise?
When u runnin from the cops in the muthaf**kin night sky?
Sweved off liquor ya you came sick but where the f**k
U think I came up with the name SMI click?
[VERSE 2: D0c2ce]
My insides spit acid bleach, got no empathy
Love is just a myth so dig deep into the hole
Cunts usin for power cut they muthaf**kin throat
Let it spray take a shower
Leaving boundaries behind in my last hour
Uh, f**k what you write!
If ya game isn't sharp I might f**k yo wife
Smi click ya we got sum military style sh*t
Underground stock pile ready for apocalypse
Ya, you comin so weak in ya verses
Tryna sound like the other guy, but you a curse b**ch
U tryna relate, statin false things in what was written
To sum gangbangin killa sh*t that u aint really livin
I don't live it either keep it solid not a slave to the dolla
But that dollaz are my slaves in my pocket
Suited up in boss and versace with a flash light
And a extendable stock on my shotty this goes out
[CHORUS]
To all the industry clown ass rappers and the hip hop guys I
Just got one question that I really wana ask u (what's that?)
How many guns do you own?
And boxes of ammo do u got stored up in ya home?
How many suits and ties do u got for your diguise?
When u runnin from the cops in the muthaf**kin night sky?
Sweved off liquor ya you came sick but where the f**k
U think I came up with the name SMI click?