looking out the window
Blood up in my system
Why she say she miss 'em?
I just killed that motherfucker talking all that shit, yuh
.45, make 'em shit, yuh
Fucking on his bitch, yuh
I ain't tryna live, yuh
Wait, I think I did, yuh
Wait, I think I do, yuh
Glocky, it gon' shoot ya
Shoot at your Medulla
I be with them shooters, killers, for real, yeah
Baby, know the deal, yeah
Easy off them pills, yeah
We not tryna feel, yeah, feel, yeah
Wait, hol' up, wait, I see 12, out the window
Don't you know the drill, bro?
Yeah, we shoot to kill, bro
Get yo' choppa ready, when they come in, we gon' spill, bro
Blood up on the pillows
Do this shit for real, ho
Yeah, it's a long way home
One more murder, then I'm gone
Two more bullets to his dome
I'm inside, can you please leave me alone?
I miss life, when I ain't do nothing wrong
I'm locked inside my home
I'm reaching for my chrome
Can't nothing keep me calm
Got blood up on my palms
Yeah, it's blood up on the ceiling
I ain't one to deal, man
Why can't nothing kill him?
Why ain't nothing kill them?
Wait, hol' up, wait, I see 12, out the window
Don't you know the drill, bro?
Yeah, we shoot to kill, bro
Get yo' choppa ready, when they come in, we gon' spill, bro
Blood up on the pillows
Do this shit for real, ho
I just stabbed my ho, I'm reaching for my chrome
Can't nothing keep me calm
Got blood up on my palms
Yeah, there's blood up on the ceiling
I ain't one to deal, man
Why can't nothing kill him?
Why ain't nothing kill them?
Why she say she miss 'em?
I just killed that motherfucker talking all that shit, yuh
.45, make 'em shit, yuh
Fucking on his bitch, yuh
I ain't tryna live, yuh
Wait, I think I did, yuh
Wait, I think I do, yuh
Glocky, it gon' shoot ya
Shoot at your Medulla
I be with them shooters, killers, for real, yeah
Baby, know the deal, yeah
Easy off them pills, yeah
We not tryna feel, yeah, feel, yeah
Wait, hol' up, wait, I see 12, out the window
Don't you know the drill, bro?
Yeah, we shoot to kill, bro
Get yo' choppa ready, when they come in, we gon' spill, bro
Blood up on the pillows
Do this shit for real, ho
Yeah, it's a long way home
One more murder, then I'm gone
Two more bullets to his dome
I'm inside, can you please leave me alone?
I miss life, when I ain't do nothing wrong
I'm locked inside my home
I'm reaching for my chrome
Can't nothing keep me calm
Got blood up on my palms
Yeah, it's blood up on the ceiling
I ain't one to deal, man
Why can't nothing kill him?
Why ain't nothing kill them?
Wait, hol' up, wait, I see 12, out the window
Don't you know the drill, bro?
Yeah, we shoot to kill, bro
Get yo' choppa ready, when they come in, we gon' spill, bro
Blood up on the pillows
Do this shit for real, ho
I just stabbed my ho, I'm reaching for my chrome
Can't nothing keep me calm
Got blood up on my palms
Yeah, there's blood up on the ceiling
I ain't one to deal, man
Why can't nothing kill him?
Why ain't nothing kill them?
Credits
Writer(s): Izzy Z
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.