Childish Gambino
Assassins Lyrics
Mapquest where the place is
Gats in they faces
Then we fold them up and put them back in they cases
Assassins replace expressions on faces
And hard eyes on gangsters with hot gaping spaces
Hands full of aces, pockets on swole
Glassy-eyed aiming from my own grassy knoll
Leave JFKâs head just a big smoky hole
To console Jackie O she could smoke my pole
Itâs called Camelot âcause she came a lot
And a lot of you rappers sound the same a lot
And the game is still out there if you play or not
And Iâm the King of Queens, Kevin James is not
I quit my temp job âcause I canât let a day go
Tomorrowâs moguls are delivering your bagels
I hope your trophy wife been practicing her kegels
Cause when we take the game we wonât leave you any Legos
There go the kid with his dirty white sneakers on
Dreaming on a way to get his penthouse on Bleecker on
Give your girl head, call you with the speaker on
Horse head in your bed, now you know who you sleeping on
Are you seeing what Iâm seeing?
This booth is a crime scene
Chalk off the mic, the kill screen is my screen
No need to terrify or pop shots at witnesses
They only testified they know what hot shit this is
[Hook (x2): Childish Gambino]
True assassins
Hold your glass up
Them’s the type of niggas thatâll cut yo ass up
Whether it be tracks or verses
Chains or purses
Them the type of niggas thatâll make you stop
[Verse 2: Nick Packard]
Classic assassin
Straight from Central Castinâ
I bust through your abode with both barrels blastinâ
I crush up your skull like a truck that you crashed in
Iâm never gonna die like Iâm Tuck Everlasting
Never thought that Iâd carry an AK
All I ever wanted to be is Farley, Ferrell, or Fey
And maybe some day that dream will come true
But for now I got my gun and Iâm aiming at you (Hey!)
In your house on your couch while youâre readinâ
I got no flow, itâs more like breakthrough bleedinâ
But Iâm into cartoons and Iâm really not sane
All I leave of your body is a Pinky and the Brain (Uh!)
Iâm more Manson than a small-time crook
When it comes to taking lives I steal like Dane Cook
Bitch, take a look, you know itâs in a book
Even LeVar Burtonâs Roots get shook
[Verse 3: Childish Gambino]
Ah, ah, you can call me assassin, I kill Versace
I walk too much, gotta Gucci watch me
The illest of the killers you can tell by my fashion
Light hoodie to bright sneaks itâs all matchin’
I kill rappers, I donât need no stealinâ
If I do lose a battle Iâmma kill âem for real
Iâm just kidding, or am I?
Things get real in the City of L.I
Thatâs right, I live in Queens
The borough of the lost
I hate the fuckinâ yuppies but I love how much it costs
Call me in the winter and the spring to play tennis
And they give me strange looks âcause I floss like a dentist
Iâmma finish this sentence then get me a rope
So I got a little dough and Iâm fresh like Scope
A nigga so dope, I got the new Pumas
That never take a bath so I call âem homeschoolers
Numbers like rulers, Iâm tired of it all
I sleep in the club and I yawn when I ball
Iâm off the hook like phone calls
Whereâs kidrobot?
I need a new hoodie hot pink like doughnuts
The kids is Go-Gurts when they see my Gobstoppers
Iâm not Mekhi Phifer, but I got Clockers
Transform a watch when I donât got diamonds
Boy, did you hear what I said like Simon?
I kill boutiques
Just snatch the new sneak
Iâmma do it every week
Iâm a serial killer
Beats like Dilla
Hun like âtilla
Itâs the Sick Boi thrilla (Yeah, mon!)
[Hook (x2): Childish Gambino]