| Game changer, I got these niggas pissed off
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| Yellow VV’s, I’m thinking 'bout pissing my wrist off
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| My shooter speak sign language, only talk when his stick talk
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| In other words, with that choppa, he gon' knock a bitch off
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| Keep thinking it’s a game, come on, go with your move
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| Your lil' brother get out at two, we’ll catch you at his school
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| Nigga paperwork hit the media, everybody think it’s cool
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| How they some killers and the law? |
| Come on now, I’m confused
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| Gone be a lot of niggas dead 'fore the foolishness stop
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| Gone be a whole lot of shells from the Rugers and Glocks
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| Ay, why you claiming all these bodies? |
| Nigga, who you done shot?
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| John Wick, I hang with niggas they make movies about
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| Bitch, I know you can’t breathe from the gun smoke
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| And tomorrow ain’t promised, so we gun tote
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| Don’t play with me, I’ll have them hitters at your front door
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| All I do is say the word and, bitch, you done for
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| Now it’s a whole lot of shit that I don’t play about
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| And it’s a whole lot of shit that we’ll spray about
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| Ain’t with the talking, where you at? |
| Go and air it out
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| And the police that’s something we don’t care about
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| But we ain’t chilling in the spot when the feds out
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| Leave everything else take the bread out
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| Disrespect the game, you gotta die, so what you scared 'bout?
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| 'Cause I’m that young nigga that my hitters gone bust a head 'bout
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| Gone be a lot of niggas dead 'fore the foolishness stop
|
| Gone be a whole lot of shells from the Rugers and Glocks
|
| Ay, why you claiming all these bodies? |
| Nigga, who you done shot?
|
| John Wick, I hang with niggas they make movies about
|
| Bitch, I know you can’t breathe from the gun smoke
|
| And tomorrow ain’t promised, so we gun tote
|
| Don’t play with me, I’ll have them hitters at your front door
|
| All I do is say the word and, bitch, you done for
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| Yeah, I’m back on my bully with a pistol
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| Back and I know you sellin' dope, I can fix you
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| Way too hard to get out what I got into (Yeah)
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| Smokin' dead niggas in this blunt, hope it offend you (Yeah)
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| Duckin' since a youngin', bitch, I’m far from rookie (Far from rookie)
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| One man army, bitch, I’m far from pussy (Far from pussy)
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| Shootouts by myself, thankful the Lord was with me (Brr)
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| Still here today, no bullet harder than me (Ha)
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| Hit two times while I was geekin' on three (Fuck him)
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| Glock 23, goin' to war in these streets (Fuck 'em)
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| It’s harder to get rich 'cause I got caught in a beef (Know that)
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| Stalker from the club and doin' wrong by they freak (Ooh)
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| Ask around my city, bitch, we playin' for keeps (Ooh)
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| Killed a couple niggas who was playin' with me (Ooh)
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| Money on his head, get 'em gone in a week (Get 'em gone)
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| I ain’t satisfied 'til I see blood in the street
|
| Gone be a lot of niggas dead 'fore the foolishness stop
|
| Gone be a whole lot of shells from the Rugers and Glocks
|
| Ay, why you claiming all these bodies? |
| Nigga, who you done shot?
|
| John Wick, I hang with niggas they make movies about
|
| Bitch, I know you can’t breathe from the gun smoke
|
| And tomorrow ain’t promised, so we gun tote
|
| Don’t play with me, I’ll have them hitters at your front door
|
| All I do is say the word and, bitch, you done for
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| Heard your mans died, he took one to the face
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| And these hoes dying, too, you better stay in your place
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| I don’t beef over the net 'cause niggas jumping on cases
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| And I know I said you was straight, but bitch, you still ain’t safe
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| And I know I said you was cool, but I lied
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| Told 'em I forgave him, but the nigga end up dying
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| My niggas hit me up, then you know I’m still slatt (Still slatt)
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| I’m only on a half, but a nigga still vibin', uhh
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| A legend in my life goin' (Uhh)
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| Got in the shootout, got hit and Fox put it in a tabloid (Damn)
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| I can’t get booked for no shows (What?)
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| Now I’m back in the kitchen with my niggas, we shoot
|
| Gone be a lot of niggas dead 'fore the foolishness stop
|
| Gone be a whole lot of shells from the Rugers and Glocks
|
| Ay, why you claiming all these bodies? |
| Nigga, who you done shot?
|
| John Wick, I hang with niggas they make movies about
|
| Bitch, I know you can’t breathe from the gun smoke
|
| And tomorrow ain’t promised, so we gun tote
|
| Don’t play with me, I’ll have them hitters at your front door
|
| All I do is say the word and, bitch, you done for
|
| All I do is say the word, and bitch, you done for
|
| All I do is say the word, and bitch, you done for |