M.M. Capone, Tokyo Suicide - Reaper Lyrics

Evil intentions
I'm stepping on necks
Don't need a me a mask
Or a weapon
I just got hands
To put on yo parents
Don't need an advance
Just to fly me to Paris
Hands on my pants
But they not mine
Got Abra kadabra beams all in my eyes
I came through the back
I come by surprise
I'm crossing my t's
And I'm dotting i's
Wanna see, how to make a rockstar
Take a little look
I can show you where the keys are
You don't even need a visa
And I'm cooking out the oven
Like a fucking pizza
I been blowing on some reefa
How I get the flow to get going
Like Khalifa
I been calling on the reaper
Never picking up my call
She worried that I'll leave her (Fuck)
No mask or weapon, who is he testing?
That boy named Smith, so we hit him with Wesson
Keep a .45 in my muh fucking dresser
Don't look like a killer, put him on a stretcher
Wait, that lil boy an opp, run up he get popped, fucking dropped
We gone send the drop
Then we get the pack, like it's track, we gone run it back
Then we send it back to the trap (Wait)
Your bitch throwing ass in the back, aye
Watch me flick my fucking wrist (My wrist)
Look down all the digits reading triple digit 6
White opal my ear, why they flashing throwing fits (Huh)
I been on the come up ever since I was like 6 (Uh)
Evil intentions
I'm stepping on necks
Don't need a me a mask
Or a weapon
I just got hands
To put on yo parents
Don't need an advance
Just to fly me to Paris
Hands on my pants
But they not mine
Got Abra kadabra beams all in my eyes
I came through the back
I come by surprise
I'm crossing my t's
And I'm dotting i's

Evil intentions
I'm stepping on necks
Don't need a me a mask
Or a weapon
I just got hands
To put on yo parents
Don't need an advance
Just to fly me to Paris
Hands on my pants
But they not mine
Got Abra kadabra beams all in my eyes
I came through the back
I come by surprise
I'm crossing my t's
And I'm dotting i's
Wanna see, how to make a rockstar
Take a little look
I can show you where the keys are
You don't even need a visa
And I'm cooking out the oven
Like a fucking pizza
I been blowing on some reefa
How I get the flow to get going
Like Khalifa
I been calling on the reaper
Never picking up my call
She worried that I'll leave her (Fuck)
No mask or weapon, who is he testing?
That boy named Smith, so we hit him with Wesson
Keep a .45 in my muh fucking dresser
Don't look like a killer, put him on a stretcher
Wait, that lil boy an opp, run up he get popped, fucking dropped
We gone send the drop
Then we get the pack, like it's track, we gone run it back
Then we send it back to the trap (Wait)
Your bitch throwing ass in the back, aye
Watch me flick my fucking wrist (My wrist)
Look down all the digits reading triple digit 6
White opal my ear, why they flashing throwing fits (Huh)
I been on the come up ever since I was like 6 (Uh)
Evil intentions
I'm stepping on necks
Don't need a me a mask
Or a weapon
I just got hands
To put on yo parents
Don't need an advance
Just to fly me to Paris
Hands on my pants
But they not mine
Got Abra kadabra beams all in my eyes
I came through the back
I come by surprise
I'm crossing my t's
And I'm dotting i's