Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Panic, Pt. 4, artist - sheff g. Date of issue: 06.06.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Panic, Pt. 4 |
| Look |
| Oh, I heard you with the drilling twisting up them figures, word to who? |
| Huh |
| Different cities up in different cities what it really care to hit the news, huh |
| Can’t keep the Glocks all up in the |
| Show some respect or bop, mission, huh |
| Shooters all up in the sprinters |
| We got them shooters all up in the sprinters |
| Tryna coolax I’m just tryna relax but he stare at me funny |
| Still on probation and I got some homies who not coming home that ain’t scared |
| to go back |
| Still with that GDK |
| Still with that drop him and never look back |
| Squeeze on that trigger when I hear him screaming while running I know that he |
| soon to collapse |
| Still 'cause I’m with some demons who skin you while out tryna eat you, no homo, |
| I’m beasting, huh |
| Clappin' or scamming I’m choppin' your cheese like a sandwich They crying we |
| laughin', huh |
| Doing my dance I hit him I’m doing my dance I run like the wind, huh |
| Bitches get shot with they man, yeah you and your friends |
| I’m sorry, you with them or gang? |
| Shoota gang |
| Shoota, shoota, that’s shoota gang |
| Shoota gang gang |
| Oh, these niggas drilling now? |
| Huh, I know they can’t stand me I sit 'em down |
| You could die with your blicky out |
| Send a message tell your momma her son a clown |
| I got hit I ain’t sit around, we could talk about it |
| Punch a opp if I walk without it |
| Keep a whole bunch of hittas 'round |
| Why you talk about it? |
| We gon' do it don’t talk about it |
| They like «Sleepy gotta chill», uh |
| Bitch I gotta move ain’t no staying still |
| Sleepy, what’s the deal? |
| Look, you ain’t gotta ask you know Sleepy will |
| Go in for the kill, what |
| Mean mugging, hoodied up, I got the steel, cuzzo got the pack |
| Look, homie got the |
| I was trappin' fell in love with doing drills, uh |
| Calm, cool chill 'til you see us buggin, get to know the real |
| Whole lot of caps getting peeled |
| Federalés tried to make a nigga squeal but Ima make bail |
| Hit the block then we back up in the field |
| You the type to tell a whole tale |
| We the type to give 'em these shells |
| Ju know the drill |
| Gorillas moving know we giving hell |
| Sinning up no we can’t tell |
| Free the felons sitting in the cells |
| From the struggle ain’t believe in well |
| Sending headshots we ain’t doing legs |
| Looking close making sure he dead |
| Got metal bullets I don’t play with lead, glttt |
| Fross back moving real tac, bitch |
| Love skinny hoes, no fat bitch |
| Whipping on the stove, the trap flip |
| See you on ghost, you active |
| Internet will get you clapped quick |
| Love groupie hoes, they nasty |
| 'Tron to the dome, get ratchet |
| Get up in your zoe, get active |
| If you think it’s hot today, boom, wait 'til you meet the heater (that heater) |
| That shit turn to jeepers creepers (that creeper) |
| At night Ima different demon (that de-) |
| My duffel is tucked away (it's tucked) |
| .40 aim in so we could |
| Dead niggas we used to see 'em |
| Lil Babies just suck the semen, falayoo! |
| M8v3n, m8v3n gang |
| Shoota, shoota, that’s shoota gang (shoota gang gang gang) |
| M8v3n, m8v3n gang |
| Shoota, shoota, that’s shoota gang (shoota gang gang gang) |