B. B. King

B. B. King - (You've Become) A Habit To Me lyrics

[Kon Artis]

I damage your neck

With the butt of the tech

Vandalous sex

Cuttin' you ear to ear

With the razor of my Gillette

You couldn't get respect

If you was a captain or a cadet

Granddaddy, daddy, or uncle who's a Vietnam vet

I'll battle you 50 deep

Solo artist shocker dead beat

Derelicts on the loose

Wylin' like thugs outta prison with slugs

While y'all start screaming

Like grasses in a submission

(Lay down your pot to piss in)

Blow up the house you live in

Believe me, we greedy

And often you is easy

Your whole album cheesy

Because you got platinum artists on it

Don't make it hot

We steamroll with real niggas

And that's something that you not

I'm vampin what you got

Then setting up camp at your spot

Foiling your plot

Every rhyme that you jot

I rock to the six like musty twat

A dead corpses that been cut up

And left in abandoned lots

Ya, derelicts theme

Comparing your team

To ours is a fucked up dream

The shit I done seen

Has turned me to a scandalous fiend

Sticking your peeps for cream

Gators or boots, nigga, I'm crushing your dreams

As foul as it seems

Dismantling spleens til your whole clique's

Walking funny like handicapped juggling teams

I rumble with kings

More humble with seen

Until it's time for me to kill again

Sincerely yours, the Kon Artis

[Chorus]

Ay yo

Competition of none's such

Derelicts the one must

Let the guns bust

Brigade one trust

Untouched

Martyr a mic

Slaughter your life

Runnin avenue soldiers bitch

It's water and trife

Competition ain't none such

Derelicts the one must

Let the guns bust

It's Brigade one trust

Untouched

Martyr a mic

Slaughter your life

Runnin' avenue soldiers bitch

Smarter and trife

[Bizarre]

Who's the fat bastard

Rapping that mo' master

Snorting coke that's whiter than Casper

Better run faster

I can out-smoke all of you motherfuckers

And bitch I was born with asthma

Fuck life, I'd rather track Jack Daniels

Smoke weed and rape Cockerspaniels

A peeping Tom, nigga I need Ridalin

Fuck girls

Bitch I only date senior citizens

Your grandma, nigga I'm the one that vic'd her

Next time you rush me

You better be a little bit quicker

Run your streets in the house

And make full of malt liquor

I'm lettin' you throw the first blow

And bring ten of your toughest niggas

End ya year

Like the last day of December

(But did you rape that bitch?)

I was so drunk I can't remember

I used to be in a group

We had an argument who was the hottest

Now both them niggas is dead

And I roll as a solo artist

[Chorus]

[Kuniva]

Look bitch you stressed out

I divide these bullets equally among your crew

And give you five so you don't feel left out

Like red the hammer

I'm nailing niggas in they spleens

Just to make walking again a sympathetic dream

Energetic schemes

Rap vandal and dismantle

Tackle MC's and wax you

Like your rap name was Candle

Grabbing a mic with no handles

Leaving you dusty

Like walking the desert in old sandals

If you weeded or drunk

Keep your heat in your trunk

We beat you to lumps

Swell you up with permanent mumps

We dangerous playa

Cuffin' my chews

Spittin the phlegm out

Getting at you whether you coming out

Or you been out

You never exempt

From this murderous attempt

I'm telling you pimp

Undeniably you are a loss

Invincible, why you trying to be a mind boss

If the Kon Artis say it then it's done

With or without a gun

Eat a track and spit out a drum

Bust one

Trust none

Playing the game of death

Take your last breath

Til your last name is left

[Chorus]

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