Assassins Songtext / Lyric

In 2013 the world government placed sanctions

Against free thinking individuals

In order to force people to adhere to one way of life

An independently organization called



Hired 100 assassins to infiltrate the headquarters

Where the files of the enslaved people were kept

Of these 100, 97 were captured, tortured and executed

Only three remained



The third of which was said to own an arsenal

That would rival and entire city's police force

The second was rumored to be able to move

Throughout space and time, and the first one



Fasten your seat belts for the last of the three assassins on earth

The first flashing her purse where the heat's stashed

They call me Jean McCoy, beast in thee employ, deploy deplorable

Through audible destructive actions, attractive decoy






Then pass it to Troy, after, I'm passing your life over

He'll deliver in through river Styx, Hades

I'm cold, deliberate, ladies, my foes limited

Pray me some praise, whisper it



Stay on your toes, villains, it's Grae and your day's whittling

Blistering lines packed in sick, stick to spine



Racked with a sick mind, trapped in thick bitch frame

Drug you with strychnine, in nine drinks

You drunk and it's my kidney, you dick-brain

I'm just itching to slit veins, stitch lines, Rick James



Fuck yo lives, sip brains, bitches

Niggas, kick rocks, or kick rhymes, it's to the pain

Liquor riddled liver, sieve in it, sipping it like Capri Sun

Ignint as ever, she's clever, equivalent be none



A ball breaker, call fakers out with passion

You got the gall, bastard, to brawl with the broad brashest?

The balls in your court, pass it but warning, fall faster

Than asses with age slack on the back of a Kardashian



The walls crash in, you all on the floor gasping

The gas pour in the corridor, racking your jaws, blacking out

Catch Grae backing out the back door cackling

Still make it back to the bar for last call, two



They ask me why I'm highly regarded as God body, probably

Monch is a mixture of Marcus Garvey, Miles Davis and Bob Marley

Radical, never skateboard slang like gnarly, more like

Weed in my whip on the way to get top like Charles Barkley



You are hardly prepared to spar with a marksman, spark me

I'm Gambit with the ace of spades, I'm mastering archery

Venculi, venicular, particularly the vernacular

Specifically to fit so when I spit, it's spectacular and accurate



When I attack, I'm more legend that Acura

Flip Bloomberg the bird bitch, more blood than Blackula

More crip that cryptic scriptures, encrypted with backwards vernacular

Plus sicker than most and Glen Close in fatal attraction



I am that nigga for real, per capita

Smacking the rapper that uses the term swagger after

These three assassins get the ass-whipping

Prepare for a professional ass-kicking



Shape shift, spit hollow tip clips, mainly sick, ain't he?

Mind Control, make you shoot your best friend in the face

Dick Cheney, my life is like a documentary film

Depicted in black and white flicks grainy



Geronimo

I'm at Guantanamo Bay taking pic in a Captain Morgan pose

With my left foot on a pile of detainees screaming

"We Are Renegades, fuck you pay, me"



I be riding 'round with a stripper slash burlesque model

I make it pop like my cock in a Durex condom

I'm a opposite artist, I find irony, In going from being

Like a stone in grass to rocking the Garden



The same irony as going from fully automatic in the backyard

To having the whole machine behind me



I take my Australian bitch and show her some other things

She know my stroke is deadly so she gave me bloody brain

Don't try to get familiar if I don't feel you in person

I'll flip the script and I accidentally kill you on purpose



The bat is what I'm flailing, I got so many furs

PETA gon' paint splash me when they see me

No matter what I'm wearing

Your bitch about to open up, sniff some blow off my dick

Guess you can say she on my coke and nuts



I'm on point like Chris Paul

You on point like and an Atlantic City hooker that licks balls

I'm 'bout to flip in this bitch like Dominique Dawes

And shuts shit down like a car when it stalls



I am the deadliest rapper, you claiming that you flow like water

But really y'all niggas Evian backwards

Marshall hit the jackpot with this flow that I got

I'm knowing I'm hot, it's my show to stop holding my crotch



My whip cleaner that Amish men and honest inns

Two dimes with me like I'm a twin 'cause I'm a 10

Okay, I'm in