| I got a hotter steez, drive with exotic keys
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| It’s not at ease, bless niggas like they gotta sneeze
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| Connect blessed me with a lot of trees
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| Now I could plot a freeze, go with the wind when I spot a breeze
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| From fake necklaces to bootleg Timb sales
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| We all about the Malachis of York and stem cells
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| And won’t hesitate to let the trigger blow
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| Cause all of my seeds just make a bigger flow
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| I like the timing, repent for a
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| Leviathan you’re high up in, I write words to violins
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| Cash to stack a van up against the cracker plan
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| The blacker man still get the ammo like Pakistan
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| Nice goal, hit your city and dice roll
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| And slice holes like Lombardi at the Ice Bowl
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| Hit with the wammo, three soldiers coming in camo
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| What up fammo? |
| You know we still got the ammo
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| Man, this shit with ammo and command a grip
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| Staying equipped, moving hand to hand to flip
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| Land and dip with ammo on the man to trip
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| Plan to rip, the gun is like a tongue with a banana clip
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| Man, this shit with ammo and command a grip
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| Staying equipped, moving hand to hand to flip
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| Land and dip with ammo on the man to trip
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| Plan to rip, the gun is like a tongue with a banana clip
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| So it’s like a firearm and they not on safety
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| Play my courts like gods like something like AC
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| Understudy of a Pun drop, and the Jay-Zs
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| Niggas hate me, take three, try to stop me
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| For each and every one of you origami
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| Shit on every track I’m on, portapotty
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| War with poppy, verbally I’m more tsunami
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| You aim on him every time
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| Open sixteen I’m in I can abort your army
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| Iller man manhandle the
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| Still got ammo, your panel now falling to shambles
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| Hang rope, get cancelled like you WB
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| I’m gonna eat, hustle then breeze
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| You ain’t fucking with me
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| Simple math I divide a couple hundred MCs
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| From bricks to lyrics, aim specific
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| We got more shots in the biscuit
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| Talking on scope slip through the darkness and trees
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| Weak or hardest indeed, make every artist
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| My clip full of ammo, magazines come in threes
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| Bootstrap, new rap, symbol on the fatigues
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| Brave years of hardships, now I make that hard shit
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| Moshpit marksmen gun blast regardless
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| Corner the market and set it off like Frankie
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| Cause these niggas just asked and y’all wanna thank me
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| Mainly I boast for the shit that I stand for
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| Allegiance is completed when y’all hitting the dance floor
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| I never lose sight that’s two nights
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| Had more than two fights when they was hogging the mic
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| Modelling type, my looks exceed what you imagine
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| Mid-thirties my nigga and still make it happen
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| I hate the past tense, I rock for now
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| With Snowgoons, J. Sands, Main Flow, sugar high
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| Hey yo my man the east born told me the streets warring
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| Ran the castle, dodge the shells that keep pouring
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| Early morning until the night transforming
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| Far from dormant, the freaks come out without warning
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| The shit’s unlike the north side, Killa county
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| Home sweet home but feeling like an out-of-townie
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| I don’t fuck with snakes but yo they still around me
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| Plus the jake carry heat just to grill a brownie
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| Straight up shit is real, let the trey-eight buck
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| Better not tell a soul when you ain’t wake up
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| Cause them boys know the feds better than they know the ledge
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| Big gates blow the bread on some blow their head
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| Right off the shoulder, the kids getting older
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| And the war’s getting colder so I dip to SoCal
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| Lay low and profile cause I got ammo that make it go blow |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Still Got Ammo , by - Snowgoons. Song from the album The Snowgoons Instrumentals, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп