The Prunes - Cremate 'Em lyrics

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The Prunes - Cremate 'Em lyrics

[Intro] Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes! Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes! Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes! Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes! [Verse One] Y'all know it's hell when I come through I cast spells with the Bellevue 1-2 And we can settle it with shells if you want to Bump you, squeeze first I'mma haunt you Or better yet I'll let the gun bu*t lump you Dog tail up ya a** when I confront you, f*ggot I'mma hunt you Na'an n***a could collab' with me Cause when I spit my sixteen, they get mad at me Have them write their verses over tryna battle me And n***a that'll be a fatal tragedy sh**, you better off shooting or stabbing me Than stepping in this f**ing rap ring and jab with me Get ya weight up motherf**er, wear the belt and the crown Frozen n***as like a dirty gat, I'm melting them down Self in the ground, you f**ing with a higher force n***as be sacrificed, you'll die on a cross Angel on the pale horse Leave you with multiple wounds when they find you Ya man's comin right behind you [Hook] Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes! Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes! [Verse Two] Y'all know the flow chops ridiculous Taw like the blow n***as cop on St. Nicholas You think I'm p**y motherf**er stick ya dick in this Like Biggie said sh** infected with syphilis Gonorrhea, HIV, flow sick with this Put a condom on ya mic tryna spit with this Tryna get with this, I'mma hit with this Make you slit ya wrist, y'all man a cli*oris Like chlamydia, hard to swallow, I burn throat Getting rid of ya with hollows, you mob turncoats Word to the safe in the ceiling My flow's like a burning punany, hit the clinic get the penicillin You see the logo n***a "STD" f** what you heard son, the best be me From Red Hook, y'all n***as know how long we waited Y'all motherf**ers, bout to get cremated [Hook] [Verse Three] Put ya j**els up, put ya house up Put ya tools up, n***a put ya spouse up We can go at it motherf**er album budget for budget And let your a&r judge it sh**, I'll have ya label push ya project back Cause I get hyper than a f**ing hypochondriac Ain't no responding back My magnum mic'll push ya conscience back Give ya a** a holy spirit make you haunt the track I, I blaze blaze gun gun sprays sprays Leave ya whole record company in a daze daze Tell ya ceo stop calling my house Or the next f**ing song son, I'm calling y'all out Better prepare for the long awaited, finally made it Y'all n***as bout to get cremated!!!