Cover art for Big Scrilla by Killa Tay

Big Scrilla

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Big Scrilla Lyrics

[Killa Tay]
Uh huh, Yeah
We gone call this one big scrilla
For all my niggas out there thug pimpin
D-1A up in this muthafucka, ya' know
For yall sucka ass niggas, uh

Hollerin all the cheap shit, but you ain't rappin right nigga
Gimmie the mic, feel me like you appetite nigga
Supposed to be hard, but y'all ain't actin like niggas
Probably go both ways like a hermaphrodite nigga
Bitch mades can't get no love
I hit the highway like O.J, with blood on my gloves
I roll like young buck, homies wanna hang with me
But I'm a killa on the grind livin dangerously
I'm thug pimpin, from Visalia to Australia
Never been a failure better believe it when I tell ya
Sell you nothin but the A-1 yeh
The innovator, pistol players mandatory one shot
To end the story the glory days is over
If you dont work, you dont eat
All that talkin is cheap mayne, this hustle game is deep
Packin pistolas, west cola till they burry me
With a bullet in my casket
To lift my soul and keep them scared of me
Work, like chemotherapy, when i let loose with the ??
So relentless, we sneakin, and creepin and keepin it off the hinges
Bullys wit Fullys pullin strings like Jimi Hendrix
Fuck a trick biotchh, when it comes to my click, my love is endless, IIIII -stick em like syringes, hard, heavy and deadly
I do whatever it take in life to make continous fetti
Ready and willing killin them all off like nazi's
No time for the he say she say we stay sloppy of that broccolli
We mob deep
[Chorus]
Ride for my niggas
Stay on the grind down to die for my niggas
We real killas, big scrilla
Blazin up doja zips
Nigga, one false move and its over with, we blast
And mash hard, livin large like a rock star lookin out for cop cars
Mob life is, money over bitch, fuck a snitch, we the niggas hittin licks
Flippin bricks gettin rich off tricks

[Killa Tay]
I put it down for my homies, Fresno to Toronto
Imagine if im livin in dead, head hauncho
All up on your shit, westside represent
Money and dope fuck a bitch, im a balla and a pimp
Nigga we real ridas, ain't no studio killas
Leavin them hurt, doin the dirt, puttin in work for the scrilla
We mofioso, fuck the po-po, federali's and task
Got a fifty cal, when i ride around and the funk down we blast
Skid off in they ass like gas, and get my strike on
Hit the back route to my batch house cause im sleepin with my nikes on
I'm seein facin hearin voices at my window
Maybe these niggas is comin for me or maybe its the indo
Sometimes I feel like I'm the that's doin ??
Cause I'm shady to my own lady, smokin up all my dank
Down to blow, been funkin wrong lately
I'm under pressure, with a tazer under my pillow
And a Glock on top of my dresser
My bitch say I'm paranoid, and my momma think I'm special
But fuck them, I can't trust nobody but Dan Wessern
Its a, cold game, they only know me by my code name
Agent 187, smobbin ?? sprayin cocaine
[Chorus]

[Killa Tay]
Damging bodies is a hobby they try to stop me but i mash hard
Livin on the run like a track star so why act hard
You know we packin when its time for some action
These niggas never see me like revy jackson
We be taxin they ass like IRS, I bring death
They call me the grim reaper, creepin and sneakin em with the left
Till they tone death my tank on F, I smash out
I ain't no punk smokin dope blunts till I pass out
I'm a rida, I love my momma mayne I'm puttin in work
And doin dirt, skeet skirt, off the block, fuck the cops
I'm the bully on the block, with fully on the spot
When you see us ain't no love, we some thugs on the block
Watch, these papers gone turn
Before the burn my im connected like a crooked attorney
My money dirty like a football jersey at halftime
Cause a nigga on a savage ass rhyme poppin my 9 for my past time
But now I make mine the honest way
Can't let em fuck me like they did my folks Anerae
My momma say im in too deep, but i can't change
And it seem like my baby boy gone grow up doin the same thang
Gotta gang bang, gotta maintain
Caught up in this thug shit, busta catch a slug quick
It ain't no love trick
I got hoes, from the crest side to the east side O'
We get a sack and hit the track and ride slow thug livin nigga
[Chorus till end]
I ride for my niggas

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  1. 1.
    Intro (Snake Eyes) (Missing Lyrics)
  2. 3.
    Thug Livin’ (Part II) (Missing Lyrics)
  3. 4.
    Mob Life (Missing Lyrics)
  4. 5.
    The Murda Show (Missing Lyrics)
  5. 6.
    Big Scrilla
  6. 7.
    Coast Trippin’ (Missing Lyrics)
  7. 8.
    Power Moves (Missing Lyrics)
  8. 9.
    Let’s Ride (Missing Lyrics)
  9. 10.
    Perfect 187 (Missing Lyrics)
  10. 12.
    Hardhitters (Missing Lyrics)
  11. 13.
    Snake Eyes (Missing Lyrics)
  12. 14.
    G’z On It (Missing Lyrics)
  13. 15.
    The Last Days (Missing Lyrics)
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