Kill Em Pt.2 Lyrics - Kid Vishis

"It's killin' me" 

Please be clear. This is an invasion 

Green Lantern in the lab 

The invasion. The Bar Exam 2 

"Green Lantern" 

[Kid Vishis] 

Last of the spitters 

Hall of dope niggas from the past to present is sayin', "Next is Vishis" 

I'm, one of the illest, the realest feel it 

Competition isn't existence because I got venomous diction 

You should toss your mic is my advice 

You expect me to be scary cause you talkin' hype? 

I'm like, how you gonna pump me up with no shottie then 

How you gonna fist fight Floyd when you Gotti ? 

I'm the nice right hand Rueger specialist 

Turn 'em into twins and I'll appear ambidextrous 

Simultaneous, back and forth trigger movements 

He bleedin' profusely 

I've executed my execution 

I got knowledge but I like violence and loot 

Type to go to college 

Not to learn, just to shoot a student 

Kid Vishis 

Nothin' fictitious 

Talked your bitch into believin' my seed is nutritious 

(Delicious ha ha ha) 

Yep, then you went and kissed her like it don't matter 

She went and swallowed my baby batter 

You sick! 

I know you been a bitch 

I hate you worse than fans hate Joe D. for pickin' Darko Milicic 

I got a killer spit 

River current flow 

I'm as vicious as a pit 

You a reappearing hoe 

Sho' nuff I gotta go 

Bruce Leroy to these decoys 

Deep speech, each beat I seek and destroy 

D-Boy 

The city's prince, I'm really convinced 

I'm up 

To being as sick as Two Girls In A Cup (yuck!) 

I leave these wack MCs alone 

They won't be in it long 

They only got so much time like a minute phone 

Bring your lyrics home 

Find you with your spirit gone 

Outlined and scribbled 

My nine spiral period 

Idiot 

I'm on some Frank Nitty, big willie shit 

Bout his bread 

Bout he get you dead and I'm serious! 

[Royce Da 5'9"] 

Delirious 

Beats be the eeriest 

Hand on my balls 

The Boyz N The Hood know my style like Furious 

I fight dirty 

I'm Ike scurvy 

I'll slap a bitch 

It's obviously like blood on a white jersey 

Don't go and have an accident 

Christ Passion-ate 

You little boys invite me to spaz 

I'm right on your ass 

I Mike-Jackson-it 

My bitch Nina Ross constantly lookin' for pussy 

You don't push me that pistol is dyke accurate 

The lights flashin' in the night from the chain 

Like it's lightening 

Bitches suckin' up to me 

My life is a Dyson 

The chicken with me is a knockout like she a Tyson 

But like she enticing 

Bright like the ice in a brightlin 

The Feds buggin' like I'm lice 

Whenever we chop it up 

Like I'm dice 

And I gas like I'm nitrous 

I'm on top like I'm icing 

What you not nice is 

The block price is higher than the rock pipe is 

George Bush that button like the Iraq crisis 

I'm Ted Diabiase 

I cop it 

It's not priceless 

Insane in the membrane 

I'm sittin' on top of +Sugar Hill+ like AZ but I'm not Cypress 

You got a light for the blunt? 

Fire up 

Call me Poppa Big Willie/pop a big wheely like the bike front tire up 

Me and Vish nigga 

We in tip top shape 

Myspace 

I stay in a bitch top eight 

The only question I ask you bitch niggas is, "Why hate?" 

The handle on the pistol is pearly like God's gate 

Y'all niggas sound fishy but you're really squad bait 

These Guccis, these ain't Chuckies/Chuckys but this is Child's Play