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Killin' Fields Lyrics

from 5 Classic Albums

"Killin' Fields" is track #35 on the album 5 Classic Albums. It was written by Smith, Clifford / Harris, Derrick R. L..
"Killin' Fields" is track #35 on the album 5 Classic Albums. It was written by Smith, Clifford / Harris, Derrick R. L..

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Good news Hip-Hoppers
The big alert has been called off
It turns out that the early reports were wrong, all wrong
Now for that clan out there that had such a tough time gettin' home
Sorry 'bout that
I guess the only thing we can do is play you a song

Yeah, do that
Yes, what what what, what what what, what?
What what what, what what what
Yea yea yea
(If you don't, lay back)
Raider Ruckus
(You catch a lazy jack)
Carlton Fisk
(Yaknahmean)
Huh, one, two
(Shaolin, what?)

Shoes full of dirt, kickin' sand on your works
Something gotta hurt, catch a case off a verse
Live in concert, kids comin' out they shirts
I'm hyped now, jumpin' in the crowd feet first
Meant it when I said it, lungs bring the pain son
Without the anesthetic, make 'em look pathetic
Needin' help from paramedic, hot with the nickle
Bust back, take 'em wit' you

Survival of the fittest, and the world out to get us
I feel it in my bones, I can feel it
In my testosterone, when it's on
Stat', bring it back, hard rap for you pussy-cat
Cognac off the meat rack, where the pussy at?
Johnny, got these niggaz mad at they mommy
Jumping on my hard salami, say what you like
In the heat of the night, I crash individuals
Splash on the mic, air-tight with the lyrical

Nigga run with it, have fun with it
Load your gun with it, and be done with it

Welcome to the Killin' Field with Johnny Dangerous
Headbanger Boogie niggaz goin' through changes

It all starts with the pad and pen, my special blend
Of herbs and spices on mic divices, murder men
Make 'em mices, I recommend, somethin' that's priceless
For you rap hooligans, claimin' you nicest
Call it what you like kid, you can even call
A psychic for all I care, still ain't got a prayer
Amongst the righteous, Blazini, cheat death like Houdini
Word to bad bird that fucked nerds in bikinis

Observe, lyrical flows you being served from the gizzard
Pluckin' your nerves with nouns and verbs
From the ghettoes to the suburbs, I must be heard
Niggaz get what niggaz deserve
You can put that on my Clan logo, Wu-Tang group for solo
Bloody up my next promo
With the blood of the next bozo, clown ass niggaz be loco
Puffin' on lye, cuckoo for cocoa

Nigga run with it, have fun with it
Load your gun with it, and be done with it

Welcome to the Killin' Field with Johnny Dangerous
Headbanger Boogie niggaz goin' through changes

Yo yo, shit be hot in the kettlepot, Twisted Metal
Bust shots til' the beef settle, forget me not
City nights get a nigga hyped, scar his life
Send him back, now he Poltergeist, ghost!
Tell him, who the number one rap most, huh?
Verbal overdose leave him comatose, huh?
The nigga with the golden throat is out to get you, Hot Nickle
Bust back and take 'em wit' you, eye for eye

Never lie, crossin' my heart, hopin' you die
Somebody pat the engineer down, I think he wired
I'm off the meat rack, quick to react, my niggaz need that
They need gas, cockin' heat back, be out like Freejack
The heat's on, you think one-eight, and Johnny's blamed
Who that nigga, burn biscuit and spit flame
Leave no witness in the fast lane with shady bitches
That only want me for my riches, I know your steez

Terror Fabulous, caution, biohazardous degrees
From this ravenous, emcees be yappin'
Meth be the co-captain, on Def Jams that's closed captioned
For hearing impaired, they get a share, now what's happenin'?
Money to share, that's why we're here
And you actin' like we can't eat, like y'all eat
Now we scrappin' out in the street, I know your crew's
Hardheaded motherfuckers and I'm just like you

Nigga run with it, have fun with it
Load your gun with it, and be done with it

Welcome to the Killin' Field with Johnny Dangerous
Headbanger Boogie niggaz goin' through changes

Welcome to the Killin' Field with Johnny Dangerous
Headbanger Boogie niggaz goin' through changes

I been in the ghetto all my life
I swore to take that bitch for better or for worse
You know what I'm sayin, that's for life nigga, y'know?
'Til death do us part

Stay tuned Hip-Hoppers
Stay tuned

Songwriters
SMITH, CLIFFORD / HARRIS, DERRICK R. L.

Published by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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