Death, Murder & Mayhem

By DJ Kay Slay

On The Big Brother

Released on September 22, 2017

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[Intro: Beanie Sigel]

Oh yeah, this dirty right here

Oh, I'm comin', niggas, I know you hear my footsteps

Kay Slay, what up?


[Verse 1: Freeway]

This is pandemonium, cuffs can't hold him

Puff can't make 'em go get nothin' from nowhere

Don't ask do we body shows, don't go there

Jump off the stage, leave the microphone smokin'

Free rep Philly everywhere that he's goin'

He's overseas, y'all, please don't go there

Y'all got keys but your keys get you nowhere

It's up behind bars, nigga, no cells open

Twenty-twenty vision, y'all bulls is Ford Focused

We ride Benzes, key-less ignition

Freeze on point like the bass with the rhythm, we livin'

All y'all do is spark mad ism

Test us, gun spark, no harsh feelings

I play the villain, young arch-nemesis

You don't got the heart, don't partake in it

Is you soft like butter? I see Parkay visions

You like, "Why did they let Free into this?"

Bearded bandit, lyrical terrorist

You know Free, he be everywhere the money is

Flow like Free? Y'all guys is hilarious


[Chorus: Beanie Sigel]

Death, murder, and mayhem, everything that drama bring

I slay niggas with K's, I'm with the drama king

Death, death, murder and mayhem, everything that drama bring

I slay niggas with K's, I'm with the drama king


[Verse 2: Young Chris]

Put the barrel to his apparel, shoot back like bow and arrow

I'm on them niggas' hees like shadow

Hundred shottas go 'blocka' when it's a battle

I turn that block to a plot if you niggas tattle

Silencers when I do it, won't hear a rattle

Nigga, that's how we do it on this north Philly gravel

Illadelph to the city, don't need the help with me

'Cause hollow tips and the fifty tied to the belt with me

Do you wanna ride or die? Yeahh

La, la, la, la, send them fuckers in the sky, every shell got a name

Feel like I spent years in the range so you know I'm so sincere with my aim

Get the drop, you get shot if you there when I rain

Go insane, get a kick out of airin' you lames

You the type when it go down, disappear on the gang

I did it from day one, still here I remain


[Chorus: Beanie Sigel]

Death, murder, and mayhem, everything that drama bring

I slay niggas with K's, I'm with the drama king

Death, death, murder and mayhem, everything that drama bring

I slay niggas with K's, I'm with the drama king


[Verse 3: Tracey Lee]

T Lee the answer, better yet, the antidote

Sixteens, cancer, boy still a cannibal

Bars raised standards, flow so impeccable

But now that I'm a lawyer, go the game by the testicles

The nerve of me, Slay, it just occurred to me

If they under thirty then they probably never heard of me

They don't show the courtesy

My homie told me murder these clowns with rhymes and get in line like fraternities

You better tell boy, yeah, boy, I'm hot

You can call me hellboy, why? I'mma die hot

Tra' still amongst the best, so why stop?

Yeah, you know I'm a monster, youngster, cyclops

Big game, hollow tip, click bang, I'm the shit

Hit her in your Porsche, you only hot 'cause of politics

Let's see, address me as yes sire, esquire

Admire that feeling of pedigree that just fired


[Chorus: Beanie Sigel]

Death, murder, and mayhem, everything that drama bring

I slay niggas with K's, I'm with the drama king

Death, death, murder and mayhem, everything that drama bring

I slay niggas with K's, I'm with the drama king

Death, murder, and mayhem, everything that drama bring

I slay niggas with K's, I'm with the drama king


[Verse 4: Beanie Sigel]

Yeah, it's scrappy, it's like the iron swing

And you can say that rappin' and let the llama sing

I throw a note from this ACP

Bullets come in HD and Blu-ray , you rappers is bootleg

Your skinny ass jeans is too tight

You wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight or nut in an orgy

I rock your balls, you's a fuckin' employee

Niggas better start duckin' when I'm pluckin' this forty

Cold-hearted but my blood run hotter than June

I'm still doper than that shit in the middle of spoons

And I don't give a fuck 'bout a goon, I'm a guerrilla and pit

I beat my chest and growl at the moon

A alike, yeah, B alike

You fleet little rappers annoyin' like mini-bikes

A bunch of noise I just do it like Nike

Pull out that toy, you get sparked on site, right

Need a light? Uh

Get it right, went over that stove, I cooked coke like rice

Straight Bolivian flake, it cooked like twice

Turned nine into a half a stone

A Mac-90 with that hundred shot drum turn your house to a half a home

And I ain't even in gear, I'm at half my zone

You don't even know the half when that half is on

I don't stop 'til your casket gone

Start cuttin' niggas jumpin' off buildings like Pastor Troy

We could face-off like Castor Troy

Yeah, the Broad Street Bully back, you bastards warned