Shooters
See I'm in it
To win the pennant
Get a few digits
Just to spend it
On property, parking lots
Couple plots of land
And demand a whole lot
Back, see I'm back
Back up on my hoe shit
I mean my old shit fuck a bitch
Leave her with nothing but a tooth pick
Yeah I'm ruthless
Bust a nut up in Ruth Chris
Don't be stupid
Posting guns on ya gram
And grams on ya Snapchat
SnapBack
I Thanos snap
Learn some Snapple facts
Master Splinter of rap
Master class of a craft
I outlast all these rats
OutKast with a mask and a sickle
Raised round corn
Aand a whole lotta ass
Yeah I'm sick boy
Our toys ain't the same
We don't think the same way
It is very scientific
How I examine your brain
Home to some shooters
I ain't talking jump shots
Home of the track
And I ain't talking the 500
Rome around the streets
You'll see track marks running
That or all these pills
In suburban pantries
These suburban nannies
Be going OD
Or they OD
Oh me
Oh my
What slice of American pie
Try and fight this American pride
You'll die
Slow death
Slow burn
Like a Curry blunt have you stuck
Loosen up get that shirt untucked
Tell em we don't give a fuck
Put ya hands to the stars
In the night time
In the day let em sway
Towards the blue sky
I got green rolled up
Till my eyes turn red
I got tv up
While my girl give me head
Then it's quiet
I'm pirate on search for some booty
Cutie how's Amanda doing
I am Rudy uh from the movie
But way more groovy moody
Shit we ain't the same but I succeed
And you just suck these nuts
Hold tight little squirrell
Call your girl
She been tossing me the pearl
I'm Earl in the dm
See him shooting shots
Swish now I'm with ya bitch
Which whip unh girl take ya pick
I'm sick and not in no nice way
Get paid just to misbehave
Say hey to the man
Of ya dreams in real life
We gon have a good night
Push them panties to right
She say ey papi all night
I respond by giving
Her all this pipe
I'm Pippen in his prime
Count the rings
I belong in this thing
Larissa explain it all
While I'm deep up in them walls
I get it all and then some
You been dumb
Instrumental come on
I go y'all
Aw naw hell naw man
Y'all done up and did it
Aw naw hell naw man
Y'all done up and did it
Fuck it now I'm finished
Little bitch
To win the pennant
Get a few digits
Just to spend it
On property, parking lots
Couple plots of land
And demand a whole lot
Back, see I'm back
Back up on my hoe shit
I mean my old shit fuck a bitch
Leave her with nothing but a tooth pick
Yeah I'm ruthless
Bust a nut up in Ruth Chris
Don't be stupid
Posting guns on ya gram
And grams on ya Snapchat
SnapBack
I Thanos snap
Learn some Snapple facts
Master Splinter of rap
Master class of a craft
I outlast all these rats
OutKast with a mask and a sickle
Raised round corn
Aand a whole lotta ass
Yeah I'm sick boy
Our toys ain't the same
We don't think the same way
It is very scientific
How I examine your brain
Home to some shooters
I ain't talking jump shots
Home of the track
And I ain't talking the 500
Rome around the streets
You'll see track marks running
That or all these pills
In suburban pantries
These suburban nannies
Be going OD
Or they OD
Oh me
Oh my
What slice of American pie
Try and fight this American pride
You'll die
Slow death
Slow burn
Like a Curry blunt have you stuck
Loosen up get that shirt untucked
Tell em we don't give a fuck
Put ya hands to the stars
In the night time
In the day let em sway
Towards the blue sky
I got green rolled up
Till my eyes turn red
I got tv up
While my girl give me head
Then it's quiet
I'm pirate on search for some booty
Cutie how's Amanda doing
I am Rudy uh from the movie
But way more groovy moody
Shit we ain't the same but I succeed
And you just suck these nuts
Hold tight little squirrell
Call your girl
She been tossing me the pearl
I'm Earl in the dm
See him shooting shots
Swish now I'm with ya bitch
Which whip unh girl take ya pick
I'm sick and not in no nice way
Get paid just to misbehave
Say hey to the man
Of ya dreams in real life
We gon have a good night
Push them panties to right
She say ey papi all night
I respond by giving
Her all this pipe
I'm Pippen in his prime
Count the rings
I belong in this thing
Larissa explain it all
While I'm deep up in them walls
I get it all and then some
You been dumb
Instrumental come on
I go y'all
Aw naw hell naw man
Y'all done up and did it
Aw naw hell naw man
Y'all done up and did it
Fuck it now I'm finished
Little bitch
Credits
Writer(s): Andrew Curry
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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