Killshot

I could get a killshot running But you might not love it Run to the cops, no telling But your head's still buzzing Running in and out, give me five When I pull up no one else has arrived Flicking on the TV when you cry We could chain my heals to your dirt bike I could get a killshot running But you might not love it Run to the cops, no telling But your head's still buzzing Running in and out, give me five When I pull up no one else has arrived Flicking on the TV when you cry We could chain my heals to your dirt bike Yeah, drive over son and make him fuck your brains out Fuck your brains out Running down the pieces in the sand Wondering if you're ever getting back Wondering if they're ever getting home Home, getting home So running down the pieces in the sand Wondering if you're ever getting back Wondering if they're ever getting home Home So go How you making love if you're her dad? Nothing's evеr been here in the sand Now I'm gеtting high, it's on the band I could get a killshot running Played with your food for the last three summers Kicked off the roof tryna aim like gunners Popped off a few on the hillside Coughed up a rock in my throat so hard Throwing up blood all over the yard Running 'round shooting my guns, look, I'm over paid Fuck it, girl, you can't be fucking saved Now he fucking knows about it I could get a killshot running But you might not love it Run to the cops, no telling But your head's still buzzing Running in and out, give me five When I pull up no one else has arrived Flicking on the TV when you cry We could chain my heals to your dirt bike Yeah, drive over son and make him fuck your brains out Fuck your brains out