Shoot Outs
(feat. Styles P)
[Gun shots]
[Jada laughing] haha
Lets go
Feds in the precent looking at our picture
If rap dont work then were going to get it like i diss ya
I was told to ride with them niggaz that'll die witcha
Headed to O.T then bring some pies witcha
By ur man in lambo n tell to fly witcha
Or through them niggaz jewels
N tell them to shyne witcha
I shyne
U shyne
Like the southern western
U dont wanna fell the ghost
Or the kiss of death
Tubs still left up
Selling the sinks now
Pablo oscobar shit
Buying the clip now
Dead presidents shit
Robbing the bricks now
100 shot tommy gun
Hell of stink now
[Chorus x2]
J A D A cause the peel hollow the gun
To holla at sons
Y im that nigga yall know that
To holla at styles
The double r is coming 4 war what
[Verse two]
Yo talking about a quarter
And everything is bad for niggas know a days
So we drink a lot of water
Talking about ur so rich
Nigga ur so bitch
That ur parents proabably think they had a daughter
Yea we da boys that bring all the terror
We perserver thru all the errors
We lay niggas down wit all berrats
Everything in the bag
Chains,watches
All your leathers
So u can act funny wit cha selfs
In the hood wit dope
Sex is still 20 after 12
A sign of the times
Kitchen cook thrity eight, thirty eight trays
That well remind u of the dimes
[Chorus x2]
Hustler artchapanors
Nething to do with the hood
Thats what we responsible 4
Back down
Knifing u up
Stomping u jaw
Bail a nigga out for stilling something out on a tour
And we make a technology to try to screw niggas
Im good as long as i hold a gun to kill a new nigga
Yall dudes wit nine lives
U got 1 life left
And controvorsory sells
But it aint like death
So pop him in his head till his brain start to fizz on him
I aint sell ma sole to the devil i bought his from him
Waiting on the day they say jesus gon come
So god bless u niggas cause im snezzing with ma gun
Heachu
Bless u
U aint d block
Or double r nigga
No doubt ima stretch u
Im shot u back ten feet ima catchu
Real vodoo shit
Make sure i snap ur neck too
Thats a law on the aston marr
Lamborghini or the porsche with the crashing balls
Iced out
Or wear no ice at all
Hundred gs on the dice game
Lifes a ball
Listen up
If u real
Get real and state
We the best in the game that aint no real debate
And the never had aks peel they face
Cause its writing in the stars to consele thier fate
Time to escape
[Chorus x2]
Die Texte der Lieder. Тексты песен - На сайте свыше 500 текстов песен.
|
