Crank (Zeds Dead)

I feel like King Kong snorting cocaine You can't fuck with me, this is foreplay This is everything I told 'em I would portray They're calling me a killer, I guess murder is my forte Never short changed, gotta get my money up Stacks in the duffel 'til I can't get the zipper shut If they try and go to war I should wish them luck Cause all I fear is God, so I could give a fuck You will all fall victim to my plan If you're looking for answers get in the line, fan Oh it gets hot in the kitchen, hot as a cayenne But I can handle the heat hotter than Iran I am the man, handing out toe tags Your life in my hands, throw bag I've been in this a minute, didn't you know that? Plus I've been waiting to go, why should I hold back? There's no chance, so the haters better pipe down Get yourself in the zone for tonight's sound If you want to get this song, cut the lights out We could do this right now, we should do this right now To all my people that belong in a padded room With their caution to the wind-type of attitude All my dub heads, all they see is blood red They ask about the old me, I tell them that he's fucking dead