Death Threat Lyrics – The Brand New Heavies
Singer: The Brand New Heavies
Title: Death Threat
Some think that I’m a flake, but I’m no fake n#gg#
‘Cause I take a b#tch, make him a witch and burn his #ss at the stake
With the .44 mag, it’s so simple, put it to his temple
f#ck it, I give a n#gg# permanent dimples
Easin’ up on a fast flow, but I’ll let your #ss go
The product’s still hot like Tabasco
Brand New Heavies on the tracks, G Rap on the wax cold bumpin’
Got m#th*rf#ck*rs doin’ jumpin’ jacks
You m#th*rf#ck*rs lost it
I bake your #ss like a cake and all y’all flakes get frosted
‘Cause when G Rap is on the mix
n#gg#s start shittin’ bricks and turn into chicks with small dicks
So if it’s lyrics with a live band (Yo, this sh#t is funky)
No, f#ck funky, the sh#t hits the fan
See, if you’re steppin’ to my set, you n#gg#s get wet
Nah, f#ck it, it’s just a motherf#ckin’ death threat
Yeah, I got you b#tches on lockdown
You n#gg#s get knocked down
You’re runnin’ ’cause I’m gunnin’ your block down, punk
So save the b#tch riff ’cause my four-fifth lifts
I’m tossin’ stiffs off f#ckin’ cliffs
Get close, I got you on scope, you walkin’ on thin rope
So I’mma shoot ’em up like dope
‘Cause to make my notes, I’mma cut throats
Bodies are thrown off boats and do a dead man’s float
Straight down a river
Heh! With a bullet inside his motherf#ckin’ liver
Another hooker got thrown out
Stepped right into the crossfire and got her brains blown out
So you n#gg#s better duck
‘Cause when my pumps full of buckshots, I don’t give a f#ck
You think you’re down with the murder guys?
b#llsh#t! Say hello to that dirt you’re gonna fertilize
You wonder why the area stunk?
Homicide just found ten bones inside car trunks
When they opened the other trunks that was closed
Full of five unidentified John Does
All found dead on arrival
‘Cause I pulled up slowly and made ’em Holy like Bibles
They find a letter and cassette
Read and said it’s just a motherf#ckin’ death threat
Sendin’ bodies to a morgue for a freezin’
I got the motherf#ckin’ finger on a trigger ’cause it’s n#gg# season
A punk tried to drop me
I left his body sloppy so they can’t perform an autopsy
Dig a hole for the b#tch
And put all of his pieces and bits inside a ditch
Yo, you don’t think you’re goin’ under?
I got a bullet with ya name, ya address, and ya phone number
So if you wanna play games
I’m blowin’ you the f#ck out the frame
You tried to front and got murdered last night
So now you’re floatin’ to the motherf#ckin’ light
So I’mma step to your grave and make a toast
And start shootin’ at your motherf#ckin’ ghost
So may the Lord be wit’ ya
‘Cause I ain’t no saint and I don’t paint no pretty pictures
It ain’t nothin’ but bloodshed
Stains of brains on the rug and lead slugs in your head
You wanna make me upset?
Ha! Then I’mma promise you a motherf#ckin’ death threat
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Lyrics The Brand New Heavies – Death Threat
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