UMAGA

Lyrics: Jonathan Whitmer/Kalem Tarrant Music: Jonathan Whitmer/Kalem Tarrant (MTM, hit 'em with the heat) Cock my dick back, let it bust on a bitch Yes, yeah, uh Yeah, yeah, uh Bitch, it's suicide if you test your luck with mine Like a Lucky Strike, you get smoked, it's do or die Bullets hit you like Destructo Discs, your flesh divide Shawty ride my dick like motorists, then get exiled Ain't life a bitch? Oh well, don't fold, get your revenge, call a blitz Get down or lose your life and your limbs Name the pistol Zatch Bell 'cause thunder spark out its neck Bodiеs droppin', lead showers keep fallin', subtracting heads Okay, hot steel, burn him likе slicks Bitch, I'm feelin' like Umaga with my thumb in your bitch Okay, you flinch, like Mahito, get stitched Transfiguring her belly when I'm in her uterus Okay, got green on me like a Celtic Okay, too much money coming, I'm a rich prick, okay My bitch thick, shawty viscous, okay My dog rolling with me like Finn, okay Said my bitch pussy pink like the fur coat on Killa Cam Saiga-12 rip through your tissue, hit your core like menstrual cramps Bitch, I'm twisted with that metal, dispose of you, then I laugh Heat blasting like Tennyson, I disintegrate y'all to ash F-Face to face with the razor blade like everyday And I don't wanna better hold my tongue, no more, lil bitch, I'ma say what I say When I get to spraying, they breaking, praying on my hesitation Nations of our generation wasted, their body been put to the grave Bitch I be stuck up and down with the waves **** everybody, I move at my pace **** everybody, I'm getting my paper These pussies be talking, I get to the fade Running, running out of money How the **** is you gonna hate? Rottie rippin' up his face Choppa kickin', make 'em race Pop a 9 up in my brain And let me drift away, bitch Bitch want smoke, ain't nobody wanna test No, the kid won't fold, leave his body a mess And when the world go cold, watch a mother****er rise up out the mud, from mud to millionaire, I digress My TEC, put the barrel to his neck Pull the trigger, mother****er, let me know what's next Lil' ho, it's that young Van Gogh, bitch, I'm painting with the head Everybody want a hand like it's Left 4 Dead, okay Bitch, I'm bustin' out the cage, I leave 'em wasted, I'm wasted These mother****ers think I got complacen I place 'em up in the morgue and now they busy wastin' They tastin' that bitter taste, bitch, that be my name Bitch, it's suicide if you test your luck with mine Like a Lucky Strike, you get smoked, it's do or die Bullets hit you like Destructo Discs, your flesh divide Shawty ride my dick like motorists, then get exiled Ain't life a bitch? Oh well, don't fold, get your revenge, call a blitz Get down or lose your life and your limbs Name the pistol Zatch Bell 'cause thunder spark out its neck Bodies droppin', lead showers keep fallin', subtracting heads