album cover
Door
121
Hip-Hop/Rap
Door was released on June 6, 2019 by Zotiyac under exclusive license to Amuseio AB as a part of the album Collateral Damage
album cover
Release DateJune 6, 2019
LabelZotiyac under exclusive license to Amuseio AB
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM119

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Zotiyac
Zotiyac
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Cortez Young
Cortez Young
Composer

Lyrics

Ayy (Bitch)
Bitch, I feel like a sharpshooter, huh (Grrah)
Sit your shit up like a booster, huh
It wake his ass up like a rooster, huh
Ruger got titties like Hooters
Uh, don't try no sneak shit, I might shoot ya (Ayy)
Clip in my hand like a blooper, uh
Big .40, it fuck up your future (Ayy)
This bitch big like Rasputia, cock that ho back, tryna hit his medulla
Pop off your lid, hollow the tip, it knock off your wig
Boy, you can tell we inside of your crib (Ayy, ayy)
He got a future, don't die behind this (Ayy)
Don't lie to me, ****, lie to your bitch
We not the same, ****, my shit too thick (Ayy)
Put my blood in this shit 'til my pockets like Crips (Ayy)
Ayy, strips, I need 'em blue
I need a hit, yeah, I need a blew
I call the hitman and just say who
Bullets like Ip Man how they just flew
Pull, it'll kick, man, it learned kung-fu, uh, yeah
Choppa like Chun-Li, uh, yeah
Dump it like Humpty, uh
These .223s leave 'em lumping
It look like he off the lean how he slumping
Call this 12 gauge gasoline, how it's pumping, ayy, grrah
Ayy, Vector go, "Grrah"
I put that bitch to your neck, it go, "Grrah" (Ayy)
Hold the AR like I hold the guitar (Ayy)
Jars in the bag and the dope in the jars (Extended mag')
Extended mag' make you open your jaw (Ayy)
Keep spinnin' back like we don't know the law (Ayy)
You ain't ever been there, **** (Uh-uh)
Uh, I'm in there like swimwear, **** (Ayy)
Ain't go to class 'cause I didn't care, ****
Probably pull up and drop a few tears there, ****
Then, I pop out, probably slide to the North (North)
So, I gotta ride with a rocket, of course
Pop a shot, watch you flaunt your Honda Accord
Papa Doc, that lil' **** ain't talking no more
Ayy, died on his way to the morgue, uh (Okay)
They bagged him up way before
Ain't even try, it's too late for that boy
They know it's over, no saving that boy
Ayy, he died on the way to the floor, huh
Lil' **** got dropped like a four
It's 30 my Glock, this shit hot just like porridge
****, run up, this shit sing like a chorus
Got my Glock, but my brother gon' bring in that Taurus
Slide with the MAC, snap like a tourist
Hollow his back, he runnin' like Forrest
Might find his body somewhere in the forest
My gun dirty, gon' mop 'em like chores
This bitch thirsty, gon' slob 'em like yours
I feel like Curry, I ride with the Warriors
Ayy, open your top like a door
Written by: Cortez Young
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