Wit Da .45

This is as far as you go!

Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut

Better take yo last breath
I got Anna on my chest
I got guns in the trunk
So you better not flex
Oh I thought that you knew that you never fuck with me
So they better lock me up and throw away the fucking key
I got blood on my shoes
Now your friends sing the blues
Yeah I'll put you on the news
And they haven't got a clue
That you buried six feet deep
Lay beneath the concrete
Oh you thought that you could fight
But I got weapons on me
Call me young Ted Bundy
Cause nobody can fuckin touch me
Got this anger in my heart
Cause nobody fucking love me
Call me young Ted Bundy
Cause nobody can fuckin touch me
Got this anger in my heart
Cause nobody fucking love me

Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut
Paul wit da .45, shoot em in his fuckin gut

"He's dead and another man too, his assistant
The lab is shambles"
"He too has no heart, blood, feeling"
"He knew who he hated"
"He's a corpse who walks and obeys"
"His heart is dried up, it doesn't feel, doesn't live, beat"
"He was able to hypnotize you"
"I believe he would set a match to the whole thing if he could"
"He's completely out of control"



Credits
Writer(s): Youngmindtrip ​
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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