A Kell Rising

Okay, I rise up from my grave, I grip my blade and slice your fucking neck

I break you to your knees and make you beg, your eyes fill up with dread

I come up from the darkest pit of hell just to burn the fucking globe

Bitch, I be the Kell of Kells, snorting ether just to choke

Got- Gotta get the fuckin' bag, doesn't matter where it's from

Got a couple ways for you to die, you heartless-looking scum

I don't need a fucking Glock, I got plenty ways to end it

We the sickest motherfuckers, what you rep is just pathetic, uh

Wait a fuckin' minute, I got plenty more to say

Like "I'm spitting in your face, might as well the fucking game"

I done put these hoes in place, don't you even think to try me

'Cause you'll catch these fucking hands faster than you see the lightning