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lirik lagu tougher colder killer – el-p

to the mother of my enemy, i just killed your son
he died with his face to the sky and it cannot be undone
he didn’t die hard, in the end he just grinned and bowed
made him dig his own grave at the point of a gun
while he laughed to the gods out loud
and it made me want to jump… out a window
and it made me want to scream
tear my face off run through the streets
pandemonium me, f–ked by decree
came a long way from young and alive when i was not blind…
now i can not see
grace in reverse at best it gets worse and i wanted you to know:
since then i don’t sleep
and the uniform, tags, side arm and id that i wore
when i did it got send c.o.d
to the hq, note reading “this is not me
and i hate you for making me make a man bleed”
and before the man p-ssed and his last gasp fleed
(and this is why i’m writing you now) his eyes gleamed
and he pointed to the part of his chest that still beats
looked dead in my grill and then said this to me:

there is a tougher colder killer
a tougher colder killer than
a tougher colder killer than you
and he will wipe us all from this place
you will learn to crawl
you will learn it all in just one day
just one day

i’ll slap a motherf–ker so hard his mama probably said baby you okay
i just got an extreme pain on the side of my face, you understand me?
your dad should be ashamed of raising you suckers man, real sh-t man
your dad should’ve left home like millions of other dads did
by staying at home, man, he only made you a tougher, colder p-ssy

i’m the f–king catalina wine mixer blitzer
wolf in a shearling wording sh-t twisted
it’s a lovely day to go blitzkrieg, isn’t it?
listen if suicide pacts are your bag try dissin him
the blocked number, no star 69
call, breathe heavy at your little sis, rock system
come with the loud talk, limp back whispering
that motherf–ker’s no victim

the return of the other
insane psycho sick savage raw rap rhyme motherf–ker
with a big black belly
if it get to shaking like jelly and the gun
don’t jam, you’re a dead motherf–ker!
n-gg-s say sweet like smuckers
peanut b-tter pack the motherf–kers
i’m ashamed for your mothers
pause how i know your momma? bad motherf–ker?
double entendre?

mother f–kers don’t know sh-t
not the half or the math or the sum or the quotient
get your cameras in focus to capture the moment
i slap you for poking your nose in
globe gripped so tight that it’s choking
he got the whole world in his hands, hold this!
pose in a winning stance, don’t get close
watch me with the telescope you watched the throne with

trapped in another bad circuit, twirk it
splash in another man’s sn-tch, get murdered
paths get burnt and cut right through sermons
i laugh at the priest getting deep in the service
last guy to the big guy in the sky
is a rotten egg or potato au gratin
head get him down, take a p-ss in his coffin
better off dead than let him keep talking

you better off walking than talking
bullets get to sparking, leave you in chalk or a coffin
lord have mercy on the family and they losses
i paid for the roses to cover the coffin
i move like bulger, the boss up in boston
caught him in a bottle house buying mr. boston
hit him with a bullet from a .38 snub
put the plug in his skull, hit the switch lights, offed him

what’s that on your shirt? made you look
get jacked for your work, get juxed for the gold
‘oldest trick in the book like grandma’s hand on her c-nt playboy centerfold
hold his d-ck like a schnook on the block while he look at the cops and they drive past slow
keep the heater on ice, let it go, he was told that revenge was best served cold

you ain’t with this sh-t we with
bars of death, destruction, and violence
what do i hear from you? nothin’. silence
you ain’t ready for this sh-t. you don’t want this sh-t
it’s a prizefight. it’s a prizefight
and one opponent ain’t showin’ up
sucka

- el p

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