Lyrics Oh Shit!!! - Injury Reserve

Oh Shit!!! - Injury Reserve
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Oh Shit!!!, artist - Injury Reserve.
Date of issue: 20.07.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English

Oh Shit!!!

I say this ain’t jazz-rap, this that, this that spazz-rap
This that raised-by-the-internet, ain’t-had-no-dad rap
Yo, I’m good—don't pass that, hit me on my Snapchat
You might have to back-back, 'cause your shit is mad-wack
This that eeny-meeny-miney-moe, might need some Snapcash
Matter fact, hit the liquor store, might need some cash back
Grab some gum and some water, yeah, them chips, yeah, grab that
Watch your son and your daughter 'cause them pigs’ll snatch that
'Cause they always try to box us in, but we won’t have that
I’m a sleeper, Dennis Rodman, so watch the glass jack
Remember when I had a composition in the backpack
Now we killin' with the composition like the Rat Pack
I say this ain’t jazz-rap, this that, this that spazz-rap
This that raised-by-the-internet, ain’t-had-no-dad rap
Yo, I’m good—don't pass that, hit me on my Snapchat
You might have to back-back 'cause your shit is mad-wack
«Oh, shit!»
(Oh, shit!)
They said, «Man, we want some more hits» (S'more hits!)
«Man, this sound like some shit from '06″ ('06!)
„What that sound like, man—that's some cold shit“ (Cold shit!)
I said—"Oh, shit!»
(Oh, shit!)
«Awww, so you want some more hits?»
(S'more hits!)
«This ain’t sound like some shit from '06» (From '06!)
«Fuck what it sound like, man—that some cold shit» (Cold shit!)
This the type shit I used to ride with Tegole in his Chevy to
'06, back when I supposed to graduate from school
Remember momma told me that I need to get my act together
10 years passed, the only difference is I’m rapping better
Copped my own swishers, shoulder-tapping for them bottles now
'less I’m with my big brother, Chuckie used to hold it down
Now that shit is popping, fake homies want to come around
And they say I changed, they just mad 'cause I’m stunting now
Got you like «Oh Shit!»
And this the type of beat that make me drink a whole fifth
And this is how we doin', word to the old fifth
And you know everything we drop, that’s some cold shit, cold shit, yeah
This ain’t jazz rap, this that, this that Dad rap
This that fuck my nine to five I’m leaving, never coming back
I’m too good at rap, jack, to get caught in rat traps
If your shit is mad wack, homie you can have that, have that
«Oh, shit!»
(Oh, shit!)
They said, «Man, we want some more hits» (S'more hits!)
«Man, this sound like some shit from '06″ ('06!)
„What that sound like, man—that's some cold shit“ (Cold shit!)
I said—"Oh, shit!»
(Oh, shit!)
«Awww, so you want some more hits?»
(S'more hits!)
«This ain’t sound like some shit from '06» (From '06!)
«Fuck what it sound like, man—that some cold shit» (Cold shit!)
On and on and on
Play my favorite song
Make me dance all night
Baby, you do it right
Woah

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Artist lyrics: Injury Reserve