Correction Paroles Fire And Ice par Will Tell

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Paroles

[I-See-On]
Uh huh. The deal? Nah'mean? I-I-I'm aiming for the head this year. Nah'mean? Y'all better duck. I ain't playing no games. ‘Cause I ain't even out for, like, some of this shit. I want the whole pie, son. Nah'mean? Hold that

[I-See-On]
I's the invincible. The iron pistol spit, leaving your gristle split
My missile tips goes through your flesh, heating your tissue skin
The general, Genghis Khan, Ivan the Terrible
Petrol Rollies gleam the scene in the emerald
My life flashed. Bulletproof Bentleys with the white dash
The flying coup stuck in the seat, rocking a white rag
The hundred-shot-Calico flow
Me and my [?] go together like guns and ammo
The Puerto Rican Rambo of rap. Hammers'll clap
I heal my wounds with a hot knife—f*ck a hospital staff
I'm a human whirlwind, sit on the Moon and watch the Earth spin
Rocking'll move Bin Laden's bulletproof turban
I's the nicest. I spit with a tongue shaped like an ice stick
I burn rappers in the form of human sacrifices
Watch your crew salute. We holding an Uzi in the movie, dude
We licking shots, grazing your head, bloody your Gucci suit

[I-See-On]
You better duck, nigga. My lips spit a hundred clips
Part the heavens. The thunder sounds, the Earth spin
The sun's out, the rains fall
Live or die, yo, we taking it all
Yo, ayyo, fire and ice, money and hoes, bullets and guns
There's six million ways to die—choose one
Fire and ice, money and hoes, bullets and guns
There's six million ways to die—choose one

[I-See-On]
Hey, playboy. How you do that there?
And you don't want to go against these tools right here
‘Cause I'm a little nigga with a Uz right here
And bullets the size of airplanes that move through air
Then you got these niggas with deals who ain't got no raps
And in real, real life, he ain't had no gat
And in real, real life, he ain't had no crack
Look at this nigga now. He ain't got no hat
Nigga, you stay played. I's mouth is like eight grenades
Going off at the same time. My shit is out of your range
You eager to f*ck. I must be sweeping you up
And f*ck sleeping with your bitch—you gon' sleep with the ducks
‘Cause when I hit shit, I leave it blown
He used to be a little, skinny nigga. After I hit his ass, he looked like Hulk Hogan
All bubblegoosed—and that was just with the double deuce
Left him looking like a melon

[I-See-On]
I don't give a f*ck no more. Yeah, you heard it
Every day that I'm living is war. Did you want it?
You flicking this on, getting it on. Yeah, my shit is the bomb
Icon, dick thick as an arm. American Me
f*cking with me, nigga, you get a knife up your ass
Nigga, what? Grab your rifle and blast
You flower-petal niggas is mad soft. I'm Jim Duggan
f*ck around and get hacksawed with a chainsaw
My fork gonna poke sides of your brain off
With one bullet. You got a gun? Then, nigga, pull it
To my illing niggas, my up-north, bitter niggas
My [?], ghetto grimies and Brooklyn niggas
My Bushwick Avenue, Toyota 1.8 niggas
And all my real niggas on the run and holding
Word to my mama duke, I'm the one the apostles pay homage to
I'mma pull your soul out of you like something God'll do
f*ck you. [?] my weapons is high
I'mma put holes in your drop-top and the rest of your ride
I'mma hit you with the TEC—now your chest in your eyes
I ain't Biggie but I'm from Brooklyn and I'm Ready to Die

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