Lyrics Omerta - 22gz

Omerta

Sniper the Blixky
Gang, gang, gang
Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt
Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt
BG 4L, SG
Twirl
Why would I speak on what happened?
Just know he was lackin', so we whacked him
(He was lackin')
Brand new blicky, this shit came with a hell of attachments on a ratchet
Give him a figgy, he gon' be next in the spliff if we catch him in traffic
Shit’ll get sticky, aim for his head with the blicky, put holes in his fashion,
spin it (Skrrt, skrrt)
First nigga I see in designer, I’m killin', drill 'em
He with the treeshas, spin his Brazilian wig up
Brush 'em, up it, spin, dump it
Hop out the black van, gun that boy down if he lackin', pluck him
Jump in the Bimmer, I’m with your treesha, she tryna eat up
Bands just freed up (Rrah), you the type to see opps in the freezer?
(Shine)
I think that it’s time that we T up, still scorin' 'til these haters D up
Twirlin' early mornin', don’t do with informants (Twirl, twirl)
We the ones performin', that’s why they need us
Why would I tell you the murders I did when I really be clappin'?
(How you know?
And no, I’m not doin' the feature with nobody unless it’s for backends
Yes, I be taxin', don’t care what you jackin'
I’m the teacher, that’s subtractin' the fractions
Took that boy gun off his waist, he was lackin' (Gimme that, gimme that)
Still on the run from the jakes, I ain’t chattin'
I’m in this bitch that you wouldn’t imagine
Talk tough, walk up and just whack him (Rrah, rrah)
I am a killer, I kill with a passion, when will y’all see that it’s deeper than
rappin'?
, I am not with the actin'
Heart cold like it’s February, my gun game, that’s hereditary
I got perfect aim, so I never worry
I’ma drill 'em if it’s necessary, how would I speak on what happened?
Attention seekin' get you put in a casket, jails in the streets,
know I’m active (Active)
Know I’m cut from a different fabric
I don’t bluff, ever said it’s up unless you got luck, it’s 'bout to get tragic
Make you disappear, I’m a magic (Shine)
Why would I speak on what happened?
Just know he was lackin', so we whacked him
Brand new blicky, this shit came with a hell of attachments on a ratchet
Give him a figgy, he gon' be next in the spliff if we catch him in traffic
Shit’ll get sticky, aim for his head with the blicky, put holes in his fashion,
spin it (, you nasty)