Assassins

Mapquest where the place is

Gats in they faces

Then we fold them up and put them back in they cases

Assassins replace expressions on faces

And hard eyes on gangsters with hot gaping spaces

Hands full of aces, pockets on swole

Glassy-eyed aiming from my own grassy knoll

Leave JFK’s head just a big smoky hole

To console Jackie O she could smoke my pole

It’s called Camelot ‘cause she came a lot

And a lot of you rappers sound the same a lot

And the game is still out there if you play or not

And I’m the King of Queens, Kevin James is not

I quit my temp job ‘cause I can’t let a day go

Tomorrow’s moguls are delivering your bagels

I hope your trophy wife been practicing her kegels

Cause when we take the game we won’t leave you any Legos

There go the kid with his dirty white sneakers on

Dreaming on a way to get his penthouse on Bleecker on

Give your girl head, call you with the speaker on

Horse head in your bed, now you know who you sleeping on

Are you seeing what I’m seeing?

This booth is a crime scene

Chalk off the mic, the kill screen is my screen

No need to terrify or pop shots at witnesses

They only testified they know what hot shit this is

True assassins

Hold your glass up

Them's the type of niggas that’ll cut yo ass up

Whether it be tracks or verses

Chains or purses

Them the type of niggas that’ll make you stop (x2)

Classic assassin

Straight from Central Castin’

I bust through your abode with both barrels blastin’

I crush up your skull like a truck that you crashed in

I’m never gonna die like I’m Tuck Everlasting

Never thought that I’d carry an AK

All I ever wanted to be is Farley, Ferrell, or Fey

And maybe some day that dream will come true

But for now I got my gun and I’m aiming at you (Hey!)

In your house on your couch while you’re readin’

I got no flow, it’s more like breakthrough bleedin’

But I’m into cartoons and I’m really not sane

All I leave of your body is a Pinky and the Brain (Uh!)

I’m more Manson than a small-time crook

When it comes to taking lives I steal like Dane Cook

Bitch, take a look, you know it’s in a book

Even LeVar Burton’s Roots get shook

Ah, ah, you can call me assassin, I kill Versace

I walk too much, gotta Gucci watch me

The illest of the killers you can tell by my fashion

Light hoodie to bright sneaks it’s all matchin'

I kill rappers, I don’t need no stealin’

If I do lose a battle I’mma kill ‘em for real

I’m just kidding, or am I?

Things get real in the City of L.I

That’s right, I live in Queens

The borough of the lost

I hate the fuckin’ yuppies but I love how much it costs

Call me in the winter and the spring to play tennis

And they give me strange looks ‘cause I floss like a dentist

I’mma finish this sentence then get me a rope

So I got a little dough and I’m fresh like Scope

A nigga so dope, I got the new Pumas

That never take a bath so I call ‘em homeschoolers

Numbers like rulers, I’m tired of it all

I sleep in the club and I yawn when I ball

I’m off the hook like phone calls

Where’s kidrobot?

I need a new hoodie hot pink like doughnuts

The kids is Go-Gurts when they see my Gobstoppers

I’m not Mekhi Phifer, but I got Clockers

Transform a watch when I don’t got diamonds

Boy, did you hear what I said like Simon?

I kill boutiques

Just snatch the new sneak

I’mma do it every week

I’m a serial killer

Beats like Dilla

Hun like ‘tilla

It’s the Sick Boi thrilla (Yeah, mon!)

True assassins

Hold your glass up

Them's the type of niggas that’ll cut yo ass up

Whether it be tracks or verses

Chains or purses

Them the type of niggas that’ll make you stop (x2)