Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Two Step , by - Murs. Song from the album Have a Nice Life, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 18.05.2015
Record label: Strange
Song language: English
Two Step |
| I always knew life could be super short |
| Ever since they busted out the super sport |
| Brevity, levity, bitter I could never be |
| Young for a nigga born in the late seventies |
| Heavenly, my wife cause she loves me in spite |
| Of all the crazy shit I be saying when we fight |
| Shout a kite to my nigga locked up, now Reece home |
| Making music for the kids, bitch we grown |
| Put your phone down, look me in the eye |
| Or you can talk that shit to another guy |
| I swear to God I would kick you in the button fly |
| And jump up and down on your skull 'til you fucking die |
| Y’all probably want to dance so ignore me |
| That club life ain’t ever been for me |
| You basic bitches just bore me |
| If I got to buy you a drink you can’t afford me |
| Gun shots on a good day |
| No ski masks, that’s the hood way |
| Little kids wishing that they could play |
| Looking for a hook or something Jay-Z would say |
| I got two shots left in my.22 two step |
| Two shots left in my.22 two step |
| Two shots left in my.22 two step |
| Two shots left in my.22 two step |
| Deuce-deuce in my tennis shoe |
| Hood nigga brought a burner to the interview |
| Might catch a beef on the bus home |
| Tell them gang-bang bullies get the fuck gone |
| In my zone with a brand new playlist |
| Walked right past my ex, didn’t say shit |
| Then I changed my mind like, «Ayye bitch!» |
| «Tell your new boyfriend he can’t fake this!» |
| Spent my last check on some new kicks |
| The rest at the movies on my new chick |
| I got fired on some bullshit |
| Snitch, fuck-boy that I never should’ve fooled with |
| And I ain’t ever wrote a résumé |
| But I had my cousin make me one yesterday |
| I need more hours and some better pay |
| Back when I was hustling that was something I would never say |
| Ten toes down nineteen seventy-nine |
| Southern California dummy repping heavy with mine |
| These motherfucking actors are not odd to a factor |
| Killer Reece is a cold black bastard |
| No master, no father, I raise me crazy |
| A nigga clean it up, when I had a couple babies |
| Well maybe, just maybe, you get the '08 me |
| Fresh out the county feeling crazy |
| No lizard, eight months feeling turnt, don’t play me |
| I used to be a mess my nigga |
| Only thing could kill me was stress my nigga |
| Had to give that shit a rest my nigga |
| I just did a couple years, none left my nigga |
| I can’t do another stretch my nigga |
| So it’s either shut it down, or it’s death my nigga |