I’m so Rakim and Eric. B, bitches check out my melody.
I might Slick Rick on a fella…catch me a felony.
I might Shyne Po a ho…POW! Catch me a case.
Producto must have rolled the L because this blunt feels laced.
Tag Archives: killer mike
It’s drones over Brooklyn, you blink, you could get tooken,
And now you’re understanding the definition of ‘Crooklyn.’
Pigs on parade, but bacon fryin’ and cookin’,
Cause kids’ tired of dyin’ and walkin’ round like they shooken.
Might go fuck a rapper’s life up like Mo’nique did to Precious.
I’m stuck in a time capsule when rappers’ actually factual;
Meaning: shit you spit might cause killers to come and clap at you.
Will I die slain like my King by a terrorist?
Will my woman be Coretta, take my name and cherish it?
Or will she Jackie O., drop the Kennedy, remarry it?
I ain’t never gave a fuck, I never did and never will.
Live my life on principle: keep it true, keep it real.
Better said, I keep it TRILL and no matter who don’t like it,
Homie, that just it how it is, naked truth
Like that stripper that’s in front of me,
And I keep a blunt, and a Bible, and a gun on me.
Ronald Reagan was an actor. Not at all a factor,
Just an employee of the country’s real masters.
Just like the Bushes, Clinton and Obama,
Just another talkin’ head tellin’ lies on teleprompters.
If you don’t believe the theory, then argue with this logic:
Why did Reagan and Obama both go after Gaddafi?
We invaded sovereign soil, goin’ after oil
Takin’ countries as a hobby paid for by the oil lobby,
Same as Iraq and Afghanistan.
And Ahmadinejad sayin’ they comin’ for Iran…
This is jazz, this is funk, this is soul, this is gospel
This is sanctified sick, this is player Pentecostal.
This is church front pew, Amen, pulpit,
What my people need and the opposite of bullshit.
We brag on havin’ bread, but none of us are bakers.
We all talk havin’ greens, but none of us on acres.
If none of us on acres, and none of us grow wheat,
Then who will feed our people when our people need to eat?
So it seems our people starve from lack of understandin’
Cause all we seem to give them is some ballin’ and some dancin’,
And some talkin’ about our car and imaginary mansions.
We should be indicted for bullshit we inciting,
Havin’ children deaf and pretendin’ it’s exciting.
We are advertisements for agony and pain.
We exploit the youth. We tell them to join a gang.
We tell them dope stories, introduced them to the game.
I just need the junkies and the liars and the thieves,
I need the pimps, prostitutes and pushers out in the streets.
That’s where I’m seeking God, cause that’s where He found me.
Mr. Beck, Mr. O’Reilly, Mr. Limbaugh, Mr. Hannity,
How could you sell white America your insanity?
You tell them that they’re different and manipulate their vanity
When truthfully, financially, their life is a calamity.
Otherwise they wouldn’t be listening to the remedy,
So they is not as broke as the people that they don’t want be.
Convincin’ em that rich Republicans is what they gonna be,
So they act like Ronald Reagan, and like him they awful actors
Who look up to the rich, like dumb kids look up to rappers,
And that’s about as dumb as a donkey pullin a tractor.
Yes, that’s a Democrat diss, I’m a detractor,
So whether you vote right or vote left, it’s not a factor
When you ain’t got no care for your health…ay this America
They gon’ put your ass in debt…sumtin terrible
So you can disrespect presidents, and call them Socialists
But Palin and Pelosi both gon’ have you broke as shit.
Killer Mike (Run the Jewels) • “Oh Mama” • RTJ3 • 2016
I smoke the holy herb, get high as hell and meditate.
Swear to God, shit’s so good…fat boy’ll levitate.
God’s gift to man, how the fuck they try to legislate?
Mom’s, she recovering, tell me I overmedicate.
I tell her, “Holy fuck, Jesus Christ, give me a fucking break!”
She said, “Don’t curse your mama, goddammit,” and threw a dinner plate.
Killer Mike, “Oh Mama,” from Run the Jewel’s RTJ3, 2016
Killer Mike • “Reagan” • 2012
Thanks to Reaganomics, prisons turned to profits,
Cause free labor is the cornerstone of US economics.
Slavery was abolished, unless you are in prison,
You think I am bullshitting? Then read the 13th Amendment.
Involuntary servitude and slavery it prohibits,
That’s why they giving drug offenders time in double digits.
Killer Mike, “Reagan,” R.A.P. Music, 2012
Killer Mike (Run the Jewels) • “Nobody Speak” • 2016
I rob Charlie Brown, Peppermint Patty, Linus and Lucy,
Put coke in the doobie, roll woolies to smoke with Snoopy.
I still remain that dick grabbin’ slacker that spit a loogie,
Cause the toter of the toolie’ll murder you friggin’ Moolie.
– Killer Mike, “Nobody Speak,” from DJ Shadow’s The Mountain Will Fall, 2016
The passion of Pac, the depth of Nas, circa 9-3,
Mix the mind of Brad Jordan and Chuck D and find me.
I spit with the diction of Malcolm or say a Bun B,
Prevail through Hell, so Satan get ye behind me.
You say you wanna be my leader?
I think you wanna be my God.
You say you on the side of the righteous?
I say I’m gonna hang with the wrong.
There’s truth where the filth is,
There’s lies in the law.
You want a whore with a white dress,
I want a wife in a thong.
Everybody want to talk about who this and who that,
Who the realest and who wack, or who white or who black.
Critics want to mention that they miss when hip hop was rappin’…
Motherfucker, if you did, then Killer Mike’d be platinum.
Through every ghetto I carry the heavy metal,
Just in case a shovel is needed when arguments are settled.
I love Dr. King, but violence might be necessary;
Cause when you live on MLK and it gets very scary,
You might have to pull your AK, send one to the cemetery.
God really exists, I tell you like this:
It resides inside.
And anybody tell you different,
Just selling you religion,
Tryin’ to keep your ass in line.
They say ‘Love Jesus’ and ‘Listen to your pastor,’
But Jesus told the truth, and the pastor’s a lying bastard.
All he talk about is economic elevation,
And all Jesus talked about was soul salvation.
Jesus sat with the sick and he walked with the poor,
If He gave blood for our sins, why we giving more?
I got some Gangster Disciples at church with me tonight,
With five dollars worth of gas, and a matchbook to light.
Bitch, I’m coming live from the trunk and I thrive on the funk;
Cause I’d rather die like a man than survive like a punk.