"Real Killer, Pt. 2 (Rooftop Prowler)" as written by and Jake/trattles Wherry....
You ain't goin' to shoot the piano player are you?

Please, no more!
I'm hurt
Can't you see I'm hurt
You shot me, please don't! don't
let me have a doctor
please give me the doctor
don't kill me!
You tried to kill me

If I tried that, your head would be splattered all over this field
Where's the girl?

both of you put the fucking gun on the floor now!

I'd kill him
Shoot him in the face
Put him down like a dog

Killin's the hard part
Gettin' away with it
That's easy
As long as you're not at scene of the crime
With a smokin' gun in your hand
You'll get away with it

Put the gun down you son of a bitch

what the fucking world coming to?
How do you like that? How's that?
What's the fucking matter with you?
What's the fucking matter with you?
What are you stupid or what?
Nah, nah
I'm kidding with you what the fuck you want me to do, I'm fucking sick maniac
he's dead

You know you're crazy if you think you've heard the last of this guy
he's gonna kill again
See he likes it

Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"Real Killer, Pt.2" as written by Oliver Trattles Jake Wherry

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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Real Killer, Pt. 2 (Rooftop Prowler) song meanings
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