I'm A Killa

All that faking in the air
But when you see me its so smoky you can't see my hair
And I'm known roll a pair
snake eyes but it ain't dice
I'm a dirty harry motherf**ker so no nice
Or maybe I'm so damn cold its all ice
Or maybe I'm so f**king cheers I'm like Obie Trice
Yall little c*cksuckers can't handle me so I'm another
two twenty three end of the line bodys stashed in the shed like bagged bread brotha
or even like canned head
Get the pliers cus the way I spit these rhymes are like T Pains voice wires
Or when i hit the block I'm riding on someone elses tires
Look in my eyes its all fires
I'll gigoodidy your girl in her gashmoigiddy like Quagmire
I'm a old school pimp so my hoes adress me as Sire
I'm a mixed young curly n**** with his hand on the trigga
Like Pun even if I lose weight I get bigger