BULLETS (feat. Velvet Shaga & QUI$3COLD)

Ah, shit, nigga
This sound like that trouble season shit, brother
That trouble season shit, you feel me
What you mean by that trouble season, nigga?
Something like, something like
You know, bullets coming, yeah, you're running
Some shit like that
Something like, something like -

Bullets coming, yeah, you're running, talk that shit, my choppa humming
Who the fuck you think you Sonic, Kestrel looking, yeah, you youngin'
Bust your fucking shawty open, had your baby mother soaking
Met your granny, got to stroking, met your sister, got to poking

At the light, I caught him loafing, super soaker, left him soaking
Batman, so you must be joking, murder man, I'm always toting
Outrun a switch, ho, what you're smoking, blue presidents, I'm always voting
Escape alive, I know you hoping, murder man, leaving faces open

Father God, forgive me for I holy smoke 'em
Bodies stinking in the street, walk by and it got you choking
I don't really like when I catch y'all pussy niggas loafing
Rather have a shootout broad day and leave the body soaking

Bullets coming, yeah, you're running, talk that shit, my choppa humming
Who the fuck you think you Sonic, Kestrel looking, yeah, you youngin'
Bust your fucking shawty open, had your baby mother soaking
Met your granny, got to stroking, met your sister, got to poking

Bullets coming, now he running like he Usain Bolt
Then niggas with me, they with all of that and yes, they tote
Dead bodies, yeah, they rot, it ain't shit to get you got
Do you smell what I'm cooking? Three cold, I'm not the rock

Oh, he at the party, it's the weekend, pull up with them Dracs
Kyrie Irving, I can't shake him, I don't need no bake
I ain't Kanye, how sway, I want to heat his face
Time up, put him in a box, nigga, heat lace

Bullets coming, yeah, you're running, talk that shit, my choppa humming
Who the fuck you think you Sonic, Kestrel looking, yeah, you youngin'
Bust your fucking shawty open, had your baby mother soaking
Met your granny, got to stroking, met your sister, got to poking

Bullets hit 'em, made a nigga do the Chris Brown
Stomp the yard, I'll turn Columbus, finna shoot him down
Knock him down, turn a nigga to some dominoes
Niggas want war with no bread, nigga dominoes

I keep the strap on me like a front seat passenger
Ain't no drive-bys, I'm walking down, nigga, mask up (mask up)
T-shirts, face painted, had these niggas capped up
Turn the bodies cold, send these niggas to Alaska (bitch)

Bullets coming, yeah, you're running, talk that shit, my choppa humming
Who the fuck you think you Sonic, kestrel looking, yeah, you youngin'
Bust your fucking shawty open, had your baby mother soaking
Met your granny, got to stroking, met your sister, got to poking

Hey, you know what it is, Velvet Money Mafia Shit, nigga
(That boy was always in trouble)
(Gang)