Tools Lyrics - Anybody Killa

I wanna know where the fuck are my down ass underground killas 

Straight cap peelas 

Walking the earth, been mean since birth 

Taking every damn thing in sight that's worth 

Somebody stabbing you in the back, for a pebble of crack 

Eastside bitches like that 

Sometimes I feel that I can't eat, can't sleep 

Put me in a hole baby 6 feet deep 

Better yet, just leave me alone 

I've survived this long with a microphone 

Roaming the streets, mean mugging police 

Left hand on my nuts right gripping a piece 

So now I feel that I owe it to ya'll 

You're the reason that I'm here instead of dead and gone 

And don't think that I'm here to stress you out 

I just wanna let you know what I'm about 

(Chorus x2) (Blaze Ya Dead Homie) 

Tomahawks, shotguns, axes, chains 

These are all the things that a G brings 

To your party, birthday, wedding, funeral 

Streets is crucial, competition zero 

Face facts, do the math 

You can try to relax but this killa ain't like that 

Wait a minute let me tell the truth 

I'm relaxed like a mothafucka tomahawking a fool 

Walk away just keeping my cool 

Like I'm sneaking in line at a big venue 

No traits, no motive, nobody, no clue 

Yo Blaze am I right? (WOOP WOOP) 

That's what the fuck I've been trying to say 

Me and my whole damn family acting murderous ways 

That's why we only gather once a year 

Because the world really can't afford to disappear 

So now we all break bread never misled 

And the drama that I bring you will never forget 

And the ones that's down no matter where you're at 

I'm just here to let you know that I got your back 

(Chorus x2) (Blaze Ya Dead Homie) 

Tomahawks, shotguns, axes, chains 

These are all the things that a G brings 

To your party, birthday, wedding, funeral 

Streets is crucial, competition zero 

(Blaze Ya Dead Homie) 

I'm bored as the come, homie don't be slipping acting dumb 

Shove the pistol in your mouth slightly quicker than some 

The streets are talking I be listening, hearing 

Repping for my thugs who got nothing to be fearing 

Ask me if I ever been jacked, I've been screwed and taxed, don't ask 

Some suckas with two little stripes to attack 

Mothafuckas ain't shit, I'm a soldier 

Drag bodies into coffins by they bitch ass shoulders 

Middle name Murda, Colton Grundy the rest 

You see me packing a gun in the vest 

Now do your best to stay alive, I ain't never gonna die 

Eternal like the galaxy, who wanna try? 

Me, I tell you one more time right I foze for mine 

Ain't no way ain't anybody gonna stop my shine 

Do the drivebys bitch smacking hoes and robberys 

I do it for the streets and the money, show respect 

(Chorus x4) (Blaze Ya Dead Homie) 

Tomahawks, shotguns, axes, chains 

These are all the things that a G brings 

To your party, birthday, wedding, funeral 

Streets is crucial, competition zero