You will get an invoice you vomit in the villa
Do ya thing, do ya thing, do it
Electronic jewelry, I need a 'Duracell'
Do ya thing, do ya thing, do it
Do ya thing, do ya thing, do it
More killing killing, more killing killing, for Killa, Killa
Brooklyn, the Bronx, hoppin' on the scene
And don't smoke 'cuz the chronic it'll kill ya
Do ya thing, do ya thing, do it
Got more than a million, fuck a dollar and a dream
Do ya thing, do ya thing, do it
Ya'll niggaz are counterfeit, money I stay countin' it
Me, I got the whistle that whistle right through the pistol K
Chicken, cornbread, collared on your greens
Seventy five, dropped it on a Beam
But my wrist so bright, look like 'Sunny Delight'
Cars I cop it, crotched up and I lean
Ma mess with me, I'm better than lotto
Girlfriend, my girlfriend got the nickel plate
Beef I love the sound of it, your crib'll be surround in it
Do ya thing, do ya thing, do it
I'm a monster and gorilla, that'll conquer for the scrilla
Do ya thing, do ya thing, do it
You don't do math, eight million in ice
More killing killing, more killing killing, for Killa, Killa
Do ya thing, do ya thing, do it
And yeah, I got more to tell must be bored as hell
More killing killing, more killing killing, for Killa, Killa
Throw a punch and I counter quick, down to flip
Battery triple A, where the icicles lay
Do ya thing, do ya thing, do it
Do ya thing, do ya thing, do it
More killing killing, more killing killing, for Killa, Killa
You don't even need a dollar, holla at the team
I make cheddar that's cheddar, you gotta say bravo
More killing killing, more killing killing, for Killa, Killa
And you're not from the regime and I'm popular with fiends
Mansions, cars, Prada on your jeans
More killing killing, more killing killing, for Killa, Killa
And beat you with a wiffle bat, all over a nickel play
Juelz got the whistle
And you love the way I'm bouncin' it, weed I roll a pound of it
Do ya thing, do ya thing, do it
More killing killing, more killing killing, for Killa, Killa
Yes, honey got money, yea my money is right
Right in the bra, it tickle her little nipples, hey
Twenty K times twenty, times twenty the price
And this is the chronicles of Killa
No gossip they cop it, crotched up in a lean
Do ya thing, do ya thing, do it
Hell in Harlem, I'm poppin' up in Queens
