| I pull up on them at the red light
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| BRRRRR, flatline, BRRRRR, flatline
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| I pull up on them at the red light
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| BRRRRR, flatline, BRRRRR, flatline
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| West coast to east coast, that’s my connections
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| Down south of the very bottom, welcome to my section
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| Section eight housin', Glock for protection
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| Send yo ass up north for the disrespectin'
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| I don’t got two chains, but I got two Glock’s
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| Picture me rollin' in that Benz like 2Pac
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| Let the whole clip fall, who shot ya?
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| Notorious, like Big Poppa
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| Break 'em off proper
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| Propellers on the chopper like a fuckin' helicopter
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| Bury my enemies in the graveyard
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| Mel Gibson with his lethal weapon
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| I’m a braveheart
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| Who the fuck wanna go to war?
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| Leave you knockin' on heaven’s door
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| Who the hell wanna feel the pain?
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| Catch a murder one but I kill the game
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| I pull up on them at the red light
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| BRRRRR, flatline, BRRRRR, flatline
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| I pull up on them at the red light
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| BRRRRR, flatline, BRRRRR, flatline
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| I keep my chopper in my backseat
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| I wish somebody would tell me I won’t shoot this heat
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| I don’t need no concealed weapons license, boy
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| I’ll shoot yo mom, yo daddy, yo whole family, boy
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| This ain’t no game, boy
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| This ain’t Monopoly
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| Everybody up in every hood respectin' me
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| Cause I’m a fuckin' G
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| And you ain’t none to me
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| You say you wanna a feature from Stitches
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| Well, that shit ain’t free
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| What’s goin' on in your fuckin' mind?
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| Tellin' all of your people we related all the time
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| Quit tellin' fuckin' lies
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| Cause they gon' catch up to ya
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| And I’m a motherfucker
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| My bullets, they 'bout to hit ya
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| I pull up on them at the red light
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| BRRRRR, flatline, BRRRRR, flatline
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| I pull up on them at the red light
|
| BRRRRR, flatline, BRRRRR, flatline
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| These boys they think they rowdy
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| Put four holes up in that nigga like a Audi
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| Smoke a blunt and then I’m outtie
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| Str8 Kash, flashin' shots like paparazzi
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| Sellin' bricks like T. Montana
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| Molly like I’m Hannah
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| in Saint Louis, I call it
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| TMI gorillas and them choppers got bananas
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| Pull up at the red light and I’ll shoot you with this hammer
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| She like, «Why you got to kill him?»
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| BRRRRR, class is over, I dismissed him
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| Yeah, we ruthless with Rugers
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| And now our body, we don’t pay no shooters
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| be schemin'
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| See them haters lerkin'
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| Give them nothin' but pain and rain
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| See them haters hurtin'
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| my team
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| See them haters workin'
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| Sell 'em nothin' but dreams
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| We on the corner servin'
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| Keep that brick chop
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| 'Til we get in to the tip top
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| Never flip flop
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| On my teams that he hits drop
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| Keep that fifth cocked, with that beam
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| If the shit pop, on the block like clockwork
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| Let you see how that Glock work
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| Thinkin' y’all bulletproof
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| 'Til you feel how that shot hurts
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| Silly bitch, who the fuck you think you playin' with?
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| Trustin' these hoes, be careful who you layin' with
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| Loose lips and shits
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| So I ain’t sayin' shit
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| Askin' me all them questions
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| Imma plead the fifth |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Red Light , by - Stitches. Song from the album Tales of a Drug Lord, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп