Lyrics Trigger Finger - Lil Wayne, Soulja Boy

Trigger Finger

I ain’t lookin' back, nigga
I’m a douchebag to these pussy ass niggas
Hammer in my drawers but I nail your bitch
Blunts like fingers, I’m 'bout to make a fist
Everybody die, gon' bury me alive
Grab life by the horns, put the bullshit aside
Glock clip full like the moon in the sky
I’m at the gas station adding fuel to the fire
Life ain’t shit but bitches and money
I pass that weed, like I studied
Bury me in fire and watch me phoenix
Highway to Heaven, I’m taking the scenic
You tied to the track of my train of thoughts
And controlling my thoughts is like taming sharks
And these hoes wanna kick it with me, I’m a sensei
And I got fat pockets, you niggas in shape
Tools on deck, tattoos on necks
Life is a bitch, I’ll make her your ex
Better turn to God 'fore I turn to Godzilla
How the fuck you gon' talk shit to diarrhea
Motherfucker it’s on, I’m just rubbing 'em wrong
Put a bug in my ear, but not in my phone
I’ll have a broke motherfucker run in your home
For a crumb and a bone
And put —
One in ya dome
One in ya dome, one in ya dome
One in ya dome, one in ya dome
One in ya dome, one in ya dome
One in ya dome, one in ya dome
Empty stomach, full clip
I’m gon' get it, gon' get it
Empty stomach, full clip
I’m gon' get it, gon' get it
My trigger finger itchin', my trigger finger itchin'
My trigger finger itchin', my trigger finger itchin'
My trigger finger itching, nigga
I don’t like to dream about gettin' paid
You ain’t gon hurt nobody like Kid 'n Play
Ain’t nothin' sweet but the codeine, nigga
Eyes hella red like chlorine in 'em
I was gettin' that pussy, I was gettin' that money
Long hair, don’t care, Hacksaw Jim Duggan
Too high to take a breath, too high to take a step
Two rights don’t make a wrong, three rights make a left
The cops on my dick, the feds on my nerves
I walk it like I talk it, got legs on my words
If she don’t suck dick I don’t give her that dick
Got the world in my hands, I’mma dribble that bitch
Money is the issue, full court pressure
I like my blunt Nutty Professor
I’m a straight rider with a getaway driver
Hit you dead on the money, now you dead on arrival
I don’t fuck with these niggas, too old for new friends
But never too rich for new money
These niggas buying Haterade by the twelve pack
Like two stomachs
I’m laced up like two shoes, Miss Goody
Keep that ratchet, nigga
Trigger finger itchin', I’ll scratch it, nigga
Blow your fuckin' brains out in traffic, nigga
Got green, New Orleans, St. Patrick, nigga
One bitch in the whip, one on the phone
The one on the phone is in front of your home
She 'bout to run in your home and put —
One in ya dome, one in ya dome
One in ya dome, one in ya dome
One in ya dome, one in ya dome
One in ya dome, one in ya dome
Empty stomach, full clip
I’m gon' get it, gon' get it
Empty stomach, full clip
I’m gon' get it, gon' get it
My trigger finger itchin', my trigger finger itchin'
My trigger finger itchin', my trigger finger itchin'
My trigger finger itchin'
Nigga
Rest in peace to the game 'cause I’m fresh to death
Rest in peace to the game, tell them kill they self
Make your death wish, 'cause I’m too fresh
'Cause I’m fresh to death, 'cause I’m fresh to death
You go broke tryna get fresh like this
Rest in peace to the game 'cause I killed it
I’m fresh to death, I’m fresh to death
What you talkin', I came out a coffin
Yeah
I just can’t see myself
Living in a house of mirrors
I bought me a double-R
'Cause I went from rags to riches
And these niggas nag like bitches
Actin' like little fags like Richard
And all of my bitches be bad as vision
You got a problem
I can fix it like a mathematician
I am-munition
Call me ammo for short
Trukfit shirt, camo the shorts
Your girl is a freak, your man is a narc
With your son in your arms
I’ll put —
One in your dome
Tunechi