
Date of issue: 12.12.2020
Song language: English
HEAD SHOTS |
Oou |
Look, coast to coast my approach to the «es ain’t the most grandiose |
But to commodes, I’m still the hot caca |
Top shottas and Glock poppers, know I spit hot lava |
In hopes to hear a verse that may can stop trauma |
Or at least ease the pain |
'Cause where I’m from kappas don’t flip cane, drug dealers do |
And if it just so happen that you hear some cappin' |
And your partners let it rain, you a killer too |
You know, guilty by association |
Flow filthy, how I’m still me yet forgo degradin' |
The ones who hold the essence of maternity |
Fervently, use my vocal chords to show you currency |
Is low-key found in respect for women |
Not having hoes in line like connect 4, ouu |
Aw, hell nah, let that hoe sit |
Look, I pray you peep the fact that I’m genuine |
And allow the sentiments of my sentences to take root |
'Cause I don’t weave these bars for the Benjamins |
I do it for the villainous gentlemen that chase loot |
In hopes to fill a void of fulfillment, the illness |
That fills us can often be healed by stillness |
In the presence of the one who focuses on lames |
And lepers all the same, but ain’t 'bout fortune or no fame, hold up |
'Cause it ain’t about no fortune |
But I pray you get yo' bread (Bread) |
'Cause this block ain’t hot, it’s scorchin' (Scorchin') |
And they comin' for yo' head |
So you best duck (So you best duck) |
Or get out the way (Or get out the way) |
'Cause it ain’t luck ('Cause it ain’t luck) |
When them choppas spray (When them choppas spray) |
It’s headshots (Shots, shots) |
Ouu, ouu, ouu, ouu, ouu, ouu, headshots (Shots, shots) |
I don’t want to get hit by headshots |
Super |
As I walk through the valley where they shower (Shower) |
Rain down bullets by the hour |
I sang loud unafraid, let it bang out |
Why fire 'cause they cutting off yo' router? |
Ayayay, life’ll throw you little spice like a Thai fried rice |
I can show you how to be the light when it’s night night for the opposition (Uh) |
Be on my Mekhi Phife, paid me in full, I’m out the kitchen |
With gourmet dishes (Yeah), four-course verses (Uh) |
Spit this 'til I’m more hoarse than a saddle |
'Cause I ride for my homies that I slid in them hearses (R.I.P.) |
Gone too soon, wearing locs in the church (Yeah) |
While my tears still fell down my cheeks |
On the surface we angry |
Can’t show folks that we hurtin' |
Took action, an infraction led to a misdemeanor |
Now you askin' the judge, «is it worth it?» |
Purple leaves with crystal beads |
You roll up trees to medicate pain for the moment |
You po' up shots to slow up thoughts |
Of loading shells into barrels with yo' veins full of Cognac |
Sittin' wonderin' where you went wrong at |
Then you get a call, where the phone at? |
Voice on the other side says, «come home, baby» |
You ain’t alone, it’s time to win yo' soul back |
'Cause it ain’t about no fortune |
And I pray you get yo' bread (Bread) |
'Cause this block ain’t hot, it’s scorchin' (Scorchin') |
And they coming for yo' head |
So you best duck (So you best duck) |
Or get out the way (Or get out the way) |
'Cause it ain’t luck ('Cause it ain’t luck) |
When them choppas spray (When them choppas spray) |
It’s headshots (Shots, shots) |
Ouu, ouu, ouu, ouu, ouu, ouu, it’s headshots (Shots, shots) |
I don’t want to get hit by headshots |
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