Shoot Em Up

We won't stop until we catch the ops
Spin the block two times and then we rock
We won't stop until we catch the ops
We gon' spin the block till the world stops

Spinning the block till the world stops
God, damn it this Glock so hot
Extended clips and a red dot, only talk if my gun cocked
Nine smooth like a drum-line, and that forty hit like a 808
Nina growl like a canine, I advocate that you run away

Exposing the weakness
In love with that girl, we Shanghai and beat her
Don't like your demeanor
You got a knife, I came in with a cleaver
Cut up the body, put the head in the freezer
Blindfold the bitch, cause I don't wanna see her
Stuffing the body in the back of the Ria
Damn that look rough, I wouldn't want to be you

If it's money you chasing, then I'm finna take it
Your wallet be bitchin, and I'm finna break it
Life is a game and I ain't finna play it
I spend all the cash, and it's back to the basics

God, damn it are you dumb bitch, I don't argue over dumb shit
Y'all don't know you fucking with, killing men on my bucket list

I won't stop till the ops dead (ops dead)
Your blick is stock mine got options (options)
Knock his head right off him (off him)
So many men, that I killed
I'll see em all when the world ends (goodbye)

I had the bread before I hit college
I was 18 with a band in wallet
Metal and money can't zip up my pockets
Heat tucked, belt hot, she suck with my thot
Double down on the bunnies, both of them I just might
A demon, a bitch, and a thief in the night

This ain't good for you, but damn I got good aim
Take my shot, you hit the concrete
Then damn I take your chain, Grant Street Goons
That's the only gang, the only gang I claim
I'm just in this for the money
Give two fucks about the fame

Fucking the fame, I stick my dick in it
Fuck, I think that I'm sick with it, I'm just gon' kill shit
I hop out and drill shit, I hop out with big poles
My boy got Drakos, I spin the block now
I shoot at they ankles, they got the halo
Cause that boy just died, flew to the sky, see'n his soul

Collecting them bodies, this shit ain't a hobby
Do that for the thrill, I got a new Glock
He got a new name, I call him Lil Bill
Call me AP, put a switch on my son
That ain't my baby, that just my gun
Smoke on the tip like my Glock is the Runtz
Pull that hoe out then the block get the runs

Killer on the block I be ghost facing
No description he so faceless
In the Beamer he be so faded
Kill your ass and your soul faded

Head hunter, I take the price on your head
Head runner, I get the payment the day that you dead
Sending your scalp as proof to the Feds

Exposing the weakness
Splitting his wig, blood staining the cement
Cold hearted treatment
Call the police and tell em' to clean it

Glock got a drum, she showing some cleavage
I take his hide like I'm skinning a beaver
Look in my face, see the eyes of the demon
Talk about Satan, make him a believer

Yeah, aye
This ain't good for you
Cause damn I got good aim
Take my shot, hit the concrete
Then damn I take your chain
Grant Street Goons
That's the only gang
The only gang I claim
I'm just in this for the money
Give two fucks about the fame

We won't stop until we catch the ops
Spin the block two times and then we rock
We won't stop until we catch the ops
We gon' spin the block till the world stops