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lyrics

DEADED*

VERSE 1:
Torn demented
Sword relentless
Sworn since I was borne
The form cause redemption
For the pension
I pen shit iller than gastric bypass
You niggahs is ass eating with all the gas you speaking
I’m weak
Knee slapping
I’m causing you sleep apnea
More woke than an ankh with no eye lids when I’m rapping
4 eyed muy Thai fluoride spitter
You pest all ready know that imma killa

The IceGawd KZA
Knowledge ZigZagZig Allah
Education reigns over all
Spring summer fall
I encompass the world with the coldest winter
Flipped all my L’s upside down bro
I’m a winner
7
The architect
Bro I’m hard to catch
I’m far fetched
Touching me
That’s a long stretch
Arms strong
No bench press
You can get pressed
This flows fresh squeezed
Watch me flex my guns
What up thun
You know I’m the son
Shining like resurrection
Hubris flows
Y’all my reflection
So much of me when I see you
Correction
Cross me and I’ll see you in the icu
Destined
Implore you with the blessing of my penscapes
Been great
KZA no crook
Getcha shit straight
May’ve forgot that I slowed down for you to catch up
Musta got lost in the sauce on the way up

HOOK:
Deaded, Deaded. Deaded.
No more Mr. Nice Guy.
Deaded, Deaded. Dead!
No more light in ya eyes, niggah!

VERSE 2:
Rage the stage when I pull up
The party viber
Ironic the icegawd be the one to spit the lava
Then leave the place smokin like the ganja
The reaper for hire I release the heat from my cerebral to remind ya I'm the
One not to be fucked wit
Ya whole clique is reluctant to mines
We been killing shit
You kids should kick the bucket.
From by way of the dungeons
I'm riding with my brothas
Mobbin'
Young fly and colored
Ain't no room for bustas
Exiled
You niggahs kinda hatin
I can see ya faces
I lost the virtue of patience
I got no time to waste
I gotta stack this cake and dip to Africa
The way these cops is clapping us
Initiating the eradication
Situations I'm facing
Crown me king in the making
You niggahs flaking like dandruff
The party's under ransom
Putcha hands up
Duck taped and handcuffed
I'm off the wall like Michael Jackson in vans bruh
You niggahs xaned up
Doped out
Rambunctious
I be the heaven sent angle to leave you dusted
Skrt in the blue Malibu wit a few true day ones looking like who the fuck are you
Black Bart Simpson
Sons not a simp
Nothin changed but the color of the paint on my whip
Switch lanes then I dip
Riding through my city
Died on the east side
But I rise If you feel me

credits

from Straitdrop MAGAZINE, released September 15, 2018

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KZA K' Lee Rochester, New York

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