lirik lagu hiro (phonk) - lost heart
(hiro)
i’m breakin’ b~tches for my dividends
don’t show no slack, i’m m.c. mack
so buster b~tches watch yo back
we creepin’ in comin’, in bumin’, breakin’ ya off some proper
deliverin’ in k!llin’, mackin’ preparin’ ya for the slaughter
the triple six, k!lla klan
prophet entertainment out comin’ up
chargin’ b~tches, for riches
so ho type n~gga, don’t test yo nuts
herringbone with the d around my neck
got’cha in a sweat, no fessin’, j
ust messin’ my mother f~ckin’ pimpin’
so b~tch lets go cash yo check
it was a night of a devils pledge
strictly ’bout my murder weapon
they bled, the holy red, i lived and popped ’em in shreds
the millions i made ’em i caught ’em slippin’
i rushed ’em quick
with glocks and chest pop
drop them b~tches in the restin’ places
k!lla klan sinisters, evil lord ministers, prophet entertainment
breakin’ tricks with no lovin’ her
scan f~ckin’ man, with them demons craved in the soul
but you still don’t hear me though, so you b~tches be my hoes
heres the blast, why did you look into that mask
ballin’ up early, let me finish up our task
the dirty work, but dirty work
there is no ask, in questions
teachin’ lessons, bout a bullets i be stressin’
my mind is kind of out there high in the sky
i’mma finna go in k!ll my alli~by, alli~by
no reason why he wonder, how he might just tell a lie
lookin’ down on ya by a prophet b~tch
crunchy blac dig ya grave for ya
prophet
to all you wonabees, fake tradin’ wonabees
i’m not gonna leave, ’til i found the mother f~ckin’ keys
just walked into yo house, wrap some tape, ’round his momma mouth
put the chrome tec, in her face, incase she wanna shout
(project pat don’t give a f~ck)
if i hear the five~o comin’, i’mma break in run
but i’mma gonna get that f~ckin’ cheese before a n~gga done
all about them prophets, three six mafia, yeah we in the game
ridin’ nothin’ but clean ass lexus, and suburban thangs
keepin’ all ana down, haters man i gotta dodge
stayin’ out the eyes of you folks, cause you full of flock
plain as day, quick to say the three six ain’t no child’s play
f~ckin’ with that junky fella, pluckin’ on that twelve plate
prophet posse, reunited, man these hoes hatin’ it
all about a meal ticket, local on this k!llin’ sh~t
feelin sh~t, heres a b~tch, another hit ya
fist up with the renzo cl!ck, glock totin’ mad dog
goppin’ down three six, mafia, mafia
i’m breakin’ b~tches for my dividends
don’t show no slack, i’m m.c. mack
so buster b~tches watch yo back
we creepin’ in comin’, in bumin’, breakin’ ya off some proper
deliverin’ in k!llin’, mackin’ preparin’ ya for the slaughter
the triple six, k!lla klan
prophet entertainment out comin’ up
chargin’ b~tches, for riches
so ho type n~gga, don’t test yo nuts
herringbone with the d around my neck
got’cha in a sweat, no fessin’, j
ust messin’ my mother f~ckin’ pimpin’
so b~tch lets go cash yo check
(this sh~t contagious hoe)
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