Before I Commit Suicide

Before I commit suicide, lives will be taken
Mmm, real hip-hop, west coast

Yo, yo before I commit suicide
I see to it that a million MCs die
Lyrical homicide
Walk up on 'em, circle the block
Hit 'em again less than 5 minutes exact
Then fleeing the spot
This is Armageddon, two weapons, two palms
Guns drawn, bang! Motherfucker, bang!
One man Vietnam
45 popper, rhyme like the 9-5 big poppa
On a seven deck yacht
Eat lobster with my comrades
Head doctor, knee pads
Gave it to her out of courtesy
Curtains close on that Maybach
Lay back as I hop on my underground shit
Like a subway, derail the track
The real is black
True rhyme sayers, hitmen, crime payers
Llama throwers
Hustle in front of corner stores
Street catered
For been living on minimum wages
It's not a threat, I'm doing myself a favor
With suicide

Before I commit suicide
Before I commit suicide
Suicide, it's a suicide
Suicide, it's a suicide
Suicide, it's a suicide
I got my mind on the murder
And the murder on my mind

You a liar, you and I are not alike
I flow like water, purify mics
Ask Sean Carter, Nasir Jones
Or anyone sitting on the throne
Don't get your career postponed
Women, children, I rode past in traffic
Can't steer, cars crash i got a death wish
You might be on my guest list
I wrap rappers on stretchers
Guns clap in the direction your sepsis
No matter your gender, not sexist
You MC? You better surrender
I love breakfast, lunch and dinner
Killing these rappers
Sparring in the winter
Training in the summer
More practice, let's continue
Doing numbers like an accountant
You wonder like knife
How much money I'm counting
You're damn right, I spit it pretty precise
And whenever the verse is done
Means I took me another life

Suicide, it's a suicide
Suicide, it's a suicide
Suicide, it's a suicide

(Oh, you motherfuckers think I'm playing
Huh? Let me hop
On my Daddy Kane shit, jump on my shit
'Naw mean?)

I delete MCs under concrete
Verbal mass destruction
You want it? Then call me a killer
I put these rappers on their death bed
One shot to the heart, one more to the head
My rhymes so clever I never fall off
From an industry nigga
They all get hauled off
But not from a sawed-off
But more like an uzi
Spit rap, and these succulent MCs get chewed
B money, power, respect, pussy and pistols
Hoes pop pills like it's a modern day ritual
But I don't sweat 'em y'all
I just behead 'em y'all
And leave the party jumping like
Players of B ball
The B-board, those will die who decoy
Destroy any rapper thinking he make noise
It's K-Dot, the terminator
Fake rapper rhyme slayer
Those who live now will die later

The suicide