Pink Slip Sniper – Verse 1
Bitch I walk in and the floor gets quiet.
Y’all gossip like hoes, I riot, apply it,
Pressure on necks till your skulls get pliant,
Whole crew pussy, I’m the cat that’s defiant.
“Murderer” my ass — you ain’t killed no feat,
Only thing you slayed was the clock when you fell asleep.
Talk big war stories but you weak and cheap,
Actin gangster but you snitchin when the wound gets deep.
Fat fuck lurkin with that teacher’s pet grin,
Nose so far in ass crack he smell they sin.
Always pokin where you ain’t invited in,
You ain’t built for smoke bitch — I breathe it in.
Stick Boy say he stand on business — bitch, you stand on lies.
Voice so clogged it’s like a dick up your nose when you try.
You crumble like flour in the breeze outside.
Production runner? You gon run and hide.
First day someone checks you, you’ll be cryin inside.
Hook – Sniper
Mind ya fuckin business hoe, stop watchin my grind.
Y’all obsessed with my footsteps cause you ain’t got a spine.
Gossip and whispers — none of that shit’s mine.
Keep talkin out ya neck, I’ll cut you outta the line.
Pink Slip Sniper – Verse 2
“Murderer” flexin like he lived ten lives,
But can’t lift workload or his lazy pride.
Screamin he a vet — bitch, you barely survived.
Your whole resume died the moment you arrived.
Stick Boy sittin pretty, contradiction king,
Talk tough but your chest don’t swing.
When shit gets real, you don’t do a thing —
Fake alpha energy with a cardboard ring.
Fat fuck waddles like he run the hall,
Sniffin drama like he waitin on a roll call.
But you ain’t hard bitch, you barely tall —
You built like a speed bump, that’s why you stall.
Hook – Sniper
Mind ya fuckin business hoe, stop watchin my grind.
Y’all obsessed with my footsteps cause you ain’t got a spine.
Gossip and whispers — ain’t none of y’all fine.
Keep barkin up my tree, get chopped outta line.
Silent Ronin – Remix Verse
Ronin slide in quiet, full dread, no sound.
I don’t yell with these bars — I let em echo around.
Three clowns in a circle — I’m not breakin a sweat,
I kill careers with a whisper — a surgical threat.
“Murderer” talk heavy but his resume light,
All cap like his stories from imaginary fights.
He sleep on the clock — that’s his only good night.
I sleep with eyes open, ready to strike.
Stick Boy frontin loud bout standin on biz,
But soon as shit pops he fold like a quiz.
Production runner? Please — that lane ain’t his.
He gon crash day one like he flunkin the viz.
Fat fuck sniffin tea like drama to eat,
Want smoke till smoke actually show in the street.
Then he vanish like his spine — incomplete.
I don’t talk grind — bitch, I am concrete.
Second Shift Samurai — we cut from elite.
Sniper hit first, I finish the beat.
Ronin Tag
Keep my squad out ya mouth — that’s your last sign.
Cross it and you get folded in permanent time
MIG1274
