Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Trust the Shooter, artist - Royce 5'9. Album song Trust The Shooter, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 28.03.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Heaven Studios
Song language: English
Trust the Shooter |
Long live the one who got the gun in his hand with his own plan |
Long live the grown man with no gun but still he knows the land |
Long live the one truest (Truest) |
Death to the one foolish (Foolish) |
Long live the one who ain’t gon' say shit, he just gon' come bump into you |
Death to the man who loves himself less than he loves his fucking jewelry |
Long live the man who gon' be the street judge and the fucking jury |
Nothing brings a nigga to his senses like a fucking bustin' Ruger |
I don’t give a fuck who he is, trust the fucking shooter |
So many flows, so many flows, so many flows |
Niggas close so many, so so many, so many doors |
Nothing brings a nigga to his senses like a fucking bustin' Ruger |
The rabbit got the gun now, nigga |
Trust the fucking shooter, uh |
Nigga I’m focused like a motherfucker |
Niggas with me loc’n' like a motherfucker |
Pencil barrels smoking like a motherfucker |
When we a rogue shit we chip and dale your whole clique |
We put you where you folks is |
Nigga shoutout to GDs |
And Chiraq, I rock with the D’s Gs |
On the car lot like keys please |
And anywhere you hope to be is hopeless |
'Cause we in the posted like a motherfucker |
Shoot the funeral up, to the pulpit, podium |
Obiturary, smokin' like a motherfucker |
Y’all emotional gangsters, 2016 Emo G’s |
Millennials, from the means streets of beefing through memes tweets, and emojis |
And Blogs |
Sleep on me, I’mma see to it that you see more Z’s (Uh) |
When there’s beef I don’t call niggas |
Niggas call me and when they call, call the police |
If he ain’t grow up wit us |
We’d John Doe 'em |
We John Doe |
A nigga quick |
Leave his frame tore up, shit |
Even Jane Doe her if she with him, Jane Doe a nigga’s bitch |
But I ain’t aim for it though |
Gun powder and cocaine for my cane corso |
I came into your home |
Openin' 4−4's |
Even though I came in full clothes |
Death in the air got me laying mo-low |
You could pay for protection |
Whoever you with when you disrespect payin' for it, though |
The lord is my shepherd |
All the people is sheep |
Call me the anchor |
I come from the bottom |
I’m deep when I speak on the violence reporting the evil I see |
I know what you thinking |
Here we go, another song about a nigga who got a gun but it’s not |
It’s a song about a nigga who don’t got a gun getting shot |
So many flows, so many flows, so many flows |
Niggas close so many, so so many, so many doors |
Nothing brings a nigga to his senses like a fucking bustin' Ruger |
The rabbit got the gun now, nigga |
Trust the fucking shooter, uh |
Trust the fucking shooter, uh |
For you back out make the moves |
Shit I’ve seen this happen a million times |
Uh, right, long live all the hustlers that come and cop with straight cash |
Long live all the plugs that show love, but still got class |
Death to the ones get it on their arm and run off with cash |
Long live all the goons who get half just to find their ass |
Line your fast, you could never let a minute past rapidly |
Long nose, think sneeze at you |
You know a nigga sinus bad |
Ten nine, you never mind to rag |
I sit and wonder how much mind you have |
Long flight, had the time to lag |
I came from cross the road, to cross the globe |
To off the load, to get all kinds of bags |
Proceed |
You know when I go I OD |
Me and my Co-D |
Like Orenthal and AC |
Roll a Fonto |
Got the Bronco lit |
Uhh, four-fifth |
One four-fifth |
Seatbelt strap |
Eyes focused |
Long live the one who got the gun in his hand with his own plan |
Long live the grown man with no gun but still he knows the land |
Long live the one truest (Truest) |
Death to the one foolish (Foolish) |
Long live the one who ain’t gon' say shit, he just gon' come bump into you |
Death to the man who loves himself less than he loves his fucking jewelry |
Long live the man who gon' be the street judge and the fucking jury |
Nothing brings a nigga to his senses like a fucking bustin' Ruger |
I don’t give a fuck who he is, trust the fucking shooter |
So many flows, so many flows, so many flows |
Niggas close so many, so so many, so many doors |
Nothing brings a nigga to his senses like a fucking bustin' Ruger |
The rabbit got the gun now, nigga |