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You Ain't A Killer

This song is by Big Pun and appears on the album Capital Punishment (1998).

[Verse 1]
The harsh realities of life are takin' toll
Even Jesus Christ forsake my soul
Please tell me what price to pay to make it home
Take control — I'm makin' dough, but not enough to blow
J.O.'s, they lust my flows, but 'ey yo, I don't trust a soul
That's all I know or need to, these evil streets'll meet you
Halfway and eat you alive tryin' to survive illegal
I'll leave you lost, mount you on a cross, whip you like a horse
Sacrifice your life to a higher force, then I'll stomp your corpse
It's the Bronx of course, recognize the accent?
One of the last livin' still in action general assassins
Catchin' any wreck, blastin' any tech, smashin' any chest
Passin' any test — Charles Manson in the flesh
Any last requests before you meet your maker?
Sow what you reap or wake up, shakin' up a storm like Anita Baker
I'll take you straight to hell and fill your heart with hate
Incarcerate your fate in Satan's fiery lake, then I lock the gate
Make no mistake, this shit as real as Job, we follow the killer's code
When we come for you, tell me, where will you go?
Nowhere to run, hide, I'll find you and and silence your screams
And even if you kill me I'll still be in your fuckin' dreams

[Chorus]
You ain't a killer, you still learnin' how to walk
From New York to Cali all the real niggas carry chalk
Mark you for death, won't even talk that East or West crap
From Watts to LeFrak, it ain't where you're from it's where's your gat

[Verse 2]
You've made a grave mistake
Shouldn't of come here, you changed your fate
Your brains'll make the debut on the table when I raise the stakes
The pain is great but only for a second, it starts strong then lessens
Just when you restin', the Armaggedon sets in
Left him with [?] stress (T.S.), blessed him with no regrets (Yes)
Welcome to Hell, son — the threshold of death
Face the serpent: I blaze your person, you get laced for certain
Leavin' Jakes no trace to work from — close the case like curtains
I'm hurtin' head severely really tryin' to bring the pain
There's nothin' more satisfyin' than when you cryin', screamin' my name
It's not a game, it's Purple Rain, floods and bloodstains
Big Pun's my thug's name, bustin' my guns, that's my love thang
I'll slit your jug' vein and snatch your Adam's Apple
John Madden-tackle your corpse to hoist it on a cross at the tabernacle
That'll have to hurt, I'll work your body 'til it burst
Then curse tu vida, like a Brujeria verse
I'm worse than anything you ever been through, sick in the head and mental
Essentially meant to be the sole threat against you
When you awaken, your manhood'll be taken
Fakin' like you Satan, when I'm the rhymin' abomination

[Chorus]
You ain't a killer, you still learnin' how to walk
From New York to Cali all the real niggas carry chalk
Mark you for death, won't even talk that East or West crap
From Watts to LeFrak, it ain't where you're from it's where's your gat
You ain't a killer, you still learnin' how to walk
From New York to Cali all the real niggas carry chalk
Mark you for death, won't even talk that East or West crap
From Watts to LeFrak, it ain't where you're from it's where's your gat

[Verse 3]
It's hard to analyze which guys are spies— be advised, people
We recognize who lies— it's all in the eyes, chico
We read 'em and see 'em for what they are
D's in undercover cars, takin' my picture like I'm a fuckin' star
I'm up to par, my game is in a smash
With half a million in the stash
Passport with the gats, first name and last
Ask anybody if my men are rowdy
Give me the mini-shottie, I body a nigga for a penny probably
I'm obligated to anything if it's crime related
If it shine I'll take it, still in my prime and I finally made it
I hate the fact that I'm the last edition, properly a stash magician
Could've went to college and been a mathematician
Bad decisions kept me out the game, now I'm strictly out for cream
Doin' things to fiends I doubt you'll ever dream
My team's the meanest thing you ever seen
Measured by the heaven's kings, down to the devil's mezzanine
I've never screamed so loud— I'm proud to be alive
Most heads die by 25 or catch a quick 3 to 5
So be advised: the street's full of surprises
It's not what crew's the livest
One that survive, it's who's the wisest

[Chorus]
You ain't a killer, you still learnin' how to walk
From New York to Cali all the real niggas carry chalk
Mark you for death, won't even talk that East or West crap
From Watts to LeFrak, it ain't where you're from it's where's your gat
You ain't a killer, you still learnin' how to walk
From New York to Cali all the real niggas carry chalk
Mark you for death, won't even talk that East or West crap
From Watts to LeFrak, it ain't where you're from it's where's your gat
You ain't a killer...

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