Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Duck Hunt, artist - Billy Woods. Album song History Will Absolve Me, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 09.04.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Backwoodz Studioz
Song language: English
Duck Hunt |
They shootin' at the screen |
Laser beams, lucid dreams |
Even the wiliest fiends find theyselves losing steam |
Chasing hits, Barry Bonds |
Those high scores only last so long |
8 bits in the cartridge, 16 in the P |
Yeah, it comes with the game but ain’t a damn thing free |
The kid talk about pussy like he trying to convince me |
G’head dog, I see how close you and your niggas be |
Self-described pretty G’s with fly bitches on they tweets |
But me? |
I’ll Delonte West your Old Earth and still keep it discreet |
Duke, your whole style is wash, rinse, repeat |
I bet your A&R knew he struck gold with that easy listening |
Middle of the road |
And to all you rapping christians on a mission, I’m happy to lighten that load |
You’ll stumble out the jungle twenty pounds lighter |
Wild eyed like a white man after twenty days on Rikers |
Tell em our pupils was red, skin black, rhyming brutal |
Back of the izakaya, Sapporo tallboy with my Ramen noodle |
Either I’m seeing y’alls wires or this strain is that crucial |
A lot of shit old people got to say, really ain’t that useful |
So don’t mind me youngin', do you, spread your wings |
I’mma be right up on that Magnavox clappin' that thing |
They shootin' at the screen |
Laser beams, lucid dreams |
Even the wiliest fiends find theyselves losing steam |
Chasing hits, Barry Bonds |
Those high scores only last so long |
8 bits in the cartridge, 16 in the P |
Yeah, it comes with the game but ain’t a damn thing free |
To everyone I loved |
To everyone who fronted me drugs |
To all y’all who still frontin' and fake friends who left me for dead in the mud |
Salud! |
May you each get exactly what you deserve |
Had a speech prepared chock full of them SAT words |
But on second thought, fuck it, two tears in a bucket about sums it |
A tisket, a tasket |
Black Robert Baden Powell, never caught without the ratchet |
Grass like Wimbledon, wood racquet |
Rap like a simpleton, see new tax bracket |
So-called goons, turns out they schools was magnet |
Masters of masquerade masked up, all the worlds a stage, director’s cut |
Faster blade, hunting ducks, both barrels spray |
They stuttering «best of luck» on your last day |
Last check cut bout 3 weeks before your health insurance fly away |
Smarten up, Hulk gray or find yourself in the hole like Special K |
Pimpers Paradise |
Nigga my mic sounds nice and from the jump, I bet my life |
Pocket collapsing, it’s the recession, nobody’s buying the playaction |
We don’t believe you like the government in Mogadishu, you need more factions |
They shootin' at the screen |
Laser beams, lucid dreams |
Even the wiliest fiends find theyselves losing steam |
Chasing hits, Barry Bonds |
Those high scores only last so long |
8 bits in the cartridge, 16 in the P |
Yeah, it comes with the game but ain’t a damn thing free |