"Cremate 'Em" as written by David Collins, Peder Pedersen, Simon Bonde and Christian Buksti....
Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!
Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!
Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!
Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!

[Verse One]
y'all know it's hell when I come through
I cast spells with the Bellevue 1-2
And we can settle it with shells if you want to
Bump you, squeeze first I'ma haunt you
Or better yet I'll let the gun butt lump you
Dog tail up ya ass when I confront you, faggot I'ma hunt you
Na'an nigga could collab' with me
Cause when I spit my sixteen, they get mad at me
Have them write their verses over tryna battle me
And nigga that'll be a fatal tragedy
Shit, you better off shooting or stabbing me
than stepping in this fucking rap ring and jab with me
Get ya weight up motherfucker, wear the belt and the crown
Frozen niggaz like a dirty gat, I'm melting them down
Self in the ground, you fucking with a higher force
Niggaz be sacrificed, you'll die on a cross
Angel on the pale horse
Leave you with multiple wounds when they find you
Ya man's comin right behind you

Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!
Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!

[Verse Two]
y'all know the flow chops ridiculous
Taw like the blow niggaz cop on St. Nicholas
You think I'm pussy motherfucker stick ya dick in this
Like Biggie said shit infected with syphilis
Gonorrhea, HIV, flow sick with this
Put a condom on ya mic tryna spit with this
Tryna get with this, I'ma hit with this
Make you slit ya wrist, y'all man a clitoris
Like chlamydia, hard to swallow, I burn throat
Getting rid of ya with hollows, you mob turncoats
Word to the safe in the ceiling
My flow's like a burning punany, hit the clinic get the penicillin
You see the logo nigga "STD"
Fuck what you heard son, the best be me
From Red Hook, y'all niggaz know how long we waited
y'all motherfuckers, bout to get cremated


[Verse Three]
Put ya jewels up, put ya house up
Put ya tools up, nigga put ya spouse up
We can go at it motherfucker album budget for budget
And let your a&r judge it
Shit, I'll have ya label push ya project back
Cause I get hyper than a fucking hypochondriac
Ain't no responding back
My magnum mic'll push ya conscience back
Give ya ass a holy spirit make you haunt the track
I, I blaze blaze gun gun sprays sprays
Leave ya whole record company in a daze daze
Tell ya ceo stop calling my house
Or the next fucking song son, I'm calling y'all out
Better prepare for the long awaited, finally made it
y'all niggaz bout to get cremated!!!

Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"Cremate 'Em" as written by David Collins Christian Buksti

Lyrics © Royalty Network Music Publishing Ltd.

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Cremate 'Em song meanings
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