"Tony's Killers" lyrics
(feat. Lord Goat & Snowgoons)
[Lord Goat:]
'Cause Charlie M was like my Cus D'Amato
We use your mom for drug funds up in your father's Tahoe
Trashing your condo, dip out, taking your bitch to Spago
Romantic walks under the Verrazzano
Heavy ammunition, the MAC-11 with the custom nozzle
My persona, baby laser beam, with the ugly color
Denty Camo, Kenppi? Lamo
Enters whoever follows
Cabo Wabo plans
Hollow-tips, watch them dissolve yo
Back when Howie dropped a package off the Viper roof
Rag Jordans, Scorpio fatigues, vests and sniper shoes
We some righteous dudes
Frozen bills, own 'em fillers?
Owning pistols, my shooters, long hairs like Tony's killers
A posse pull up on PK Rippers
My BK hitters they lifted off three jars and the citrus
Up in [?] place, chicken palm straight out of Vinces
Supreme blintzes filled with coke
Move the soap, with zero interest
[ILL BILL:]
I pulled a knife on the connect
Duffel bag, three rifles and a vest
Ready to die like disciples of Koresh
Young Gandolfini, head goon, Tacchini sweatsuit
We be ready to shoot
Hit 'em in the head then we scoot
Di Fara's for lunch
Dead bodies sticking up the trunk
Polero bag with two million sitting up in front
North Carolina had, two horses in my backyard
Only Hebrew for two hundred rhymes [?]
The grim reaper look like whoever holding the shotgun
Dead bodies everywhere, jet before the cops come
Killers drive-by cold, like the Good Humor man
But fuck an ice-cream cone
They shoot out your medulla, man
Salute to firearms and Mercedes cars
Motherfuck a ops and my baby moms
Killers never doze off
Graze you with the shotty, blow your nose off
Razors in the party, take your Rollie off
'Cause Charlie M was like my Cus D'Amato
We use your mom for drug funds up in your father's Tahoe
Trashing your condo, dip out, taking your bitch to Spago
Romantic walks under the Verrazzano
Heavy ammunition, the MAC-11 with the custom nozzle
My persona, baby laser beam, with the ugly color
Denty Camo, Kenppi? Lamo
Enters whoever follows
Cabo Wabo plans
Hollow-tips, watch them dissolve yo
Back when Howie dropped a package off the Viper roof
Rag Jordans, Scorpio fatigues, vests and sniper shoes
We some righteous dudes
Frozen bills, own 'em fillers?
Owning pistols, my shooters, long hairs like Tony's killers
A posse pull up on PK Rippers
My BK hitters they lifted off three jars and the citrus
Up in [?] place, chicken palm straight out of Vinces
Supreme blintzes filled with coke
Move the soap, with zero interest
[ILL BILL:]
I pulled a knife on the connect
Duffel bag, three rifles and a vest
Ready to die like disciples of Koresh
Young Gandolfini, head goon, Tacchini sweatsuit
We be ready to shoot
Hit 'em in the head then we scoot
Di Fara's for lunch
Dead bodies sticking up the trunk
Polero bag with two million sitting up in front
North Carolina had, two horses in my backyard
Only Hebrew for two hundred rhymes [?]
The grim reaper look like whoever holding the shotgun
Dead bodies everywhere, jet before the cops come
Killers drive-by cold, like the Good Humor man
But fuck an ice-cream cone
They shoot out your medulla, man
Salute to firearms and Mercedes cars
Motherfuck a ops and my baby moms
Killers never doze off
Graze you with the shotty, blow your nose off
Razors in the party, take your Rollie off
