album cover
Shoot
album cover
Shoot è stato pubblicato il 19 aprile 2019 da Jay Rebel Music come parte dell'album Big Ape
AlbumBig Ape
19 aprile 2019
EtichettaJay Rebel Music
LinguaEnglish
BPM73
Melodicità
Acousticità
Valence
Ballabilità
Energia

Testi

[Verse 1]
This that shit that got the block scared
This the reason why your pops dead
I might pull up in a drop-head
Spin on him, tomato paste, I paint his shirt red
[Verse 2]
Uh, yeah, bitch, I'm a dawg, call me Blues Clues
Put it to his head, call it BlueTooth
Yeah, he say that he a killer, ****, me too
Fuck homicide, we don't leave clues
I might go and put a fifty on a bitch ****
I'm on the Foreign Boulevard, free a real ****
Bought a Glock fresh out the store, it hold a lucky seven
I got **** crashing out to kill you, 9/11
[Verse 3]
What you gon' do when karma come around?
Some **** tuck they tail and go to copping out
What you gon' do when karma come around?
Some **** tuck they tail and go to copping out
[Verse 4]
I'ma shoot
I'ma shoot, I'ma shoot, I'ma shoot
(What you gon' do? Yeah, yeah, yeah)
I'ma shoot
I'ma shoot, I'ma shoot, I'ma shoot
I'ma shoot, I'ma shoot, I'ma shoot
[Verse 5]
My partner clutching on a nine but I like mine bigger
Pull his chopper, not the chain, but call 'em baby tiggers
He got a bag on his head, that's like five figures
When it's beef, nobody safe, even rich ****
They like to internet beef, please don't bring it my way
**** sweet as fuck, I call 'em sprinkles on a cupcake
I'm a shooter getting money, shout out to Lil Dumb Way
I went to church but still'll take your soul on a Sunday
[Verse 6]
What you gon' do when karma come around?
Some **** tuck they tail and go to copping out
What you gon' do when karma come around?
Some **** tuck they tail and go to copping out
[Verse 7]
I'ma shoot
I'ma shoot, I'ma shoot, I'ma shoot
(What you gon' do? Yeah, yeah, yeah)
I'ma shoot
I'ma shoot, I'ma shoot, I'ma shoot
I'ma shoot, I'ma shoot, I'ma shoot
[Verse 8]
This that shit that got the block scared
This the reason why your pops dead
I might pull up in a drop-head
Spin on him, tomato paste
I paint his shirt red, uh, yeah, yeah
Written by: Fredo Bang
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