Don'T Shoot Shotgun - Lyrics - Hysteria - Def Leppard

Title: Don'T Shoot Shotgun
Album: Hysteria
Artist: Def Leppard
Composer(s): Joseph Elliott, Richard Allen, Phil Collen, Steve Clark, Mutt Lange, Rick Savage

Lyric:
Run for cover
Don't shoot! Shoot!
She's so dangerous
Shotgun, gun
Don't shoot shotgun

Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm right
Fallin' head over heals at the speed of light
Hey little Miss Heaven on earth
Whoa, won't you walk this way but I see a red alert
Oh, my senses say keep away, so don't shoot

Don't shoot shotgun dream on nightmare
Touch an' go dove turned destroyer
She cut you up, she's a slave of love
Run for cover, she's so dangerous
Undercover, she's so shameless

Don't shoot shotgun
You got me bitin' my lip
Don't shoot shotgun
You shootin' straight from the hip
So don't shoot shotgun
Shoot me, baby!

Hit an' miss, flesh and blood
She's sweet and indiscreet, she can't get enough
A little midnight madness oh baby, you can't hide
So wild an' unpredictable step aside
'Cause you're, you're shooting wide

Run for cover, she's so dangerous
Undercover, she's so shameless

Don't shoot shotgun
You got me bitin' my lip
Don't shoot shotgun
You shootin' straight from the hip
Oh shake it, shake it!
Ah, take this, little hit 'n' miss

Don't shoot shotgun
You got me bitin' my lip
Don't shoot shotgun
You shootin' straight from the hip
Don't shoot it don't shoot shotgun
Shake it, shake it take this little hit 'n' miss

Don't shoot shotgun
Oh shoot it! Don't shoot it
Oh shotgun! Shoot me, baby
Let it blow!

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610ac9357feeb5e528d23d2f9c6f5191

Get Low - Lyrics - Ridin High - Eightball &Amp; Mjg

Title: Get Low
Album: Ridin High
Artist: Eightball &Amp; Mjg
Composer(s): Shondrae Crawford, Marlon Goodwin, Premro Vonzellaire Smith

Lyric:
They fight, they fight, they fight, they fight
Get low, get low, get low, get low
They shoot, they shoot, they shoot, they shoot
Get low, get low, get low, get low

They fight, they fight, they fight, they fight
Get low, get low, get low, get low
They shoot, they shoot, they shoot, they shoot

What's the worse *** heard
A shotgun blast from the back a ya head
*** don't know who got hit
But I know for sho' somebody dead

All I hear is people scream in the background
Everybody in the club down on tha flo'
Everybody in the VIP was
Runnin' over heat tokin' from the back door

I don't see MJG nowhere
Gunshots still pop in the mayhem
I'mma reach for the heat that I snuck in
Hope my shots don't hit the innocent

Seems like we done been here a long time
But it's only been about 5 minutes
Shoulda stayed my *** at home
It's too late now I'm already in it

What's the worse *** seen
Blood on the floor, blood on the wall
People gettin' hit didn't do nothing
Baby don't know, momma ain't comin' home

And I don't know what started it all
Over some bread, over some brawl
A *** done went too far
Now you gotta run and deal wit the law

And I don't wanna do nuthin' but get home
I don't wanna see nuthin' but the freeway
I don't wanna have to pop this *** ***
But I will if it mean I'mma get away

Pull back let it all go
Run outside, jump in the vee-hic
Burn off doin' eighty four
*** wanna get me, boy betta be quick

Get low, get low, get low, get low
They fight, they fight, they fight, they fight
Get low, get low, get low, get low
They shoot, they shoot, they shoot, they shoot

Get low, get low, get low, get low
They fight, they fight, they fight, they fight
Get low, get low, get low, get low
They shoot, they shoot, they shoot, they shoot

Get low, get low, get low, get low
They fight, they fight, they fight, they fight
Get low, get low, get low, get low
They shoot, they shoot, they shoot, they shoot

Get low, get low, get low, get low
They fight, they fight, they fight, they fight
Get low, get low, get low, get low
They shoot, they shoot, they shoot, they shoot

Witnesses runnin', talkin' 'bout the shootas is comin'
[Incomprehensible] get low
*** comin' out the [Incomprehensible]
That make me wonder how they got it through the front door

Security beatin' the hell outta some of the instigates
Who started the *** raucous in the first place
And there ain't even no way I could sugar coat it
As bad is I want the *** to be over and be the worse case

How a *** tryin' to get out from the middle of a situation
When the situation gonna been down
I'm tryin' to make it to my Chevy, I don't give a *** about
The bitches or the little money I'mma spend now

MJG [Incomprehensible]
[Incomprehensible]
I'm just tryna get up out the club like
So don't be stickin' yo 'hand up to me talkin' 'bout you hurtin'
You a veteran now hit me wit a dub spot

And ain't no way I'm tryna get hit wit a stray bullet
But no matta what chu say *** they pull it
[Incomprehensible]
[Incomprehensible]
You don't know, you better mother*** stay with it

A *** who on a mission to get me and everybody
Who came wit me back to mutha*** safety
And don't nobody but me and a couple *** who kill
*** for real really don't wanna hurt me

Hit the ignition on the Chevy Impala
To keep the lookout for me I just cut the music on the lo-lo
I got my hand on the *** ***
Tellin' my people to get down, help me look out for the po-po

Put it in drive, hit the accelerator [there's no more wait]
Gotta get *** wippin' while I'm dippin' now
Anotha episode of *** tryna get out the club
Because anotha mutha*** *** trippin' now

You'll better get low, get low, get low, get low
They fight, they fight, they fight, they fight
Get low, get low, get low, get low
They shoot, they shoot, they shoot, they shoot

Get low, get low, get low, get low
They fight, they fight, they fight, they fight
Get low, get low, get low, get low
They shoot, they shoot, they shoot, they shoot

Get low, get low, get low, get low
They fight, they fight, they fight, they fight
Get low, get low, get low, get low
They shoot, they shoot, they shoot, they shoot

Get low, get low, get low, get low
They fight, they fight, they fight, they fight
Get low, get low, get low, get low
They shoot, they shoot, they shoot, they shoot

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f36294d350a9577950b943557d6e76c1

Don'T Play With Me - Lyrics - On Top of Our Game - Dem Franchize Boyz

Title: Don'T Play With Me
Album: On Top of Our Game
Artist: Dem Franchize Boyz
Composer(s): Jamall Willingham, Vaushaun Brooks, Bernard Leverette, D Carlton, Gerald Tiller, Maurice Gleaton

Lyric:
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me

I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit

Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me

I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit

Bitch don't play with me, don't even wave to me
It's a wrap ye ain't got nuttin' else to say to me
Make a nigga snap or see me straight flip, bitch
Fuckin' with some G, gon get that ass killed, bitch

And if the cops come? Fuck if the cops come
'Cause I'ma do the sweep, hell, yeah with my shotgun
Blow a fuckin' fuse and be wonderin' why he did that
Tried to keep it cool, yeah, I'm comin' to push your wigs back

I squeeze big triggers, that'll rip when I blast techs
And I tote handguns with clips the size of giraffe necks
With the red beam on it so I can't miss
(Beam on it)
And I shoot K's with Ben frank clips
(Shoot K's)

What's that? That's 100 rounds, that's 100 down
(Empty?)
Fuck with DFB and you gon hear, how 100 sound
I pump and break it down when I cock it and spit slug
Put your knees on your ankles and your chest where your hip was

Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me

I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit

Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me

I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit

Gimme that gun, gimme that man
Gimme that keys, I'm at his ass
Talk that shit, now see is he bad
I'ma make him do the mothafuckin' dance

Catch up with him, just like Chad
Put one in his mothafuckin' ass
Leave 'em all bloody, like a big pad
Crunchy Blac, I don't ass crash

I'm 'bout to walk up to your house
Knock on the door and blow your brains out
Then buck you in your chest
So fuckin' hard it knock the stains out

I'm one of them crazy cats
That kick your ass and knock them thangs out
I got a 12 inch dick in your girl mouth
I'ma let it hang out

Yeah, bounce, bounce star, bounce, bounce star
Three 6 Mafia and the Franchize, huhhh?
We put a bitch on blast
Dirty South we'll blast your ass

Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me

I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit

Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me

I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit

Every nigga that fuck with me, that's the nigga I'ma check
(Test me)
Turn his whole chest into a muhfuckin' fish net
I ain't no one to fuck with, stuff you in the truck nigga
Have you tracked out, trapped up, bent up nigga?

I got transporters that's workin' for a couple figures
And a couple slick colors, on a nigga play the trigger
Shoot a nigga down yup, that's courtesy the young dealer
Niggaz with attitude natural born young killers

Now bitch don't play wit me 'cause I got the K with me
Load it up, cock it back, get all in they face with it
I ain't no one to fuck wit, better get your issue right
Nut in them bitches and he ready to light that dynamite

ZMP niggaz hate it so I stay strapped
Run up on a nigga and put a whole in his wave cap
It's pimpin' nigga, steady trippin' on my off day
Blowin' purp all day run, more blocks than in your ice tray

Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me

I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit

Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me
Bitch don't play with me

I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit
I ain't no one to fuck wit

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143e7cccf150937bd454bbe999771dbb

Drama Setter - Lyrics - Eminem

Title: Drama Setter
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Jeffrey Irwin Bass, Steven L. King, Marshall Mathers, Obie Trice, Marvin Bernard

Lyric:
Mr. Yayo, you're free to go
So I guess this means I'll see you tomorrow, eh?
Yeah, ha ha, guess who's home?
Tony Yayo, yeah, Obie Trice come on
Here we go now

I'm a drama setter, grippin' my berretta
Sippin Armeretta, man, you crazy if you think I'ma let up
I told you I'm a drama setter I'll be the first to set it, homie
You can bet it, just don't get in the way
Of my cheddar, man, 'cause I'm a drama setter

I don't go looking for no trouble
But somehow the trouble always finds me
Don't make me have you in the trauma center
With your momma crying 'cause her only son is dying
She don't know it's just your karma catchin up
'Cause I'm a drama setter

Told you man, I'm Riker's Island Pokemon
I got COs bringing me filet mignon
But now a nigga home lookin frail in the drop
(What up)
With a bitch shotgun that's inhaling the cock

I got rocks on my neck the size of bottle tops
And got Glocks in the Lex so we ride behind cops
(Break it down now)
Broke days, we used to put water in our cereal
Now we're crossing borders just to shoot another video

It's Tony Montana on full body armor
Soning niggaz like Alfredo in The Godfather
Two shot revolver, that Dillinger shit
And the AR-15 bending your Six

We taking trips to Morocco just to tan
We smoke weed in restaurants in Amsterdam
I was worth a hundred grams, now I'm worth a cool million
I'll put money on your hairline, your dime and your children

I'm a drama setter, grippin my berretta
Sippin Armeretta, man, you crazy if you think I'ma let up
I told you I'm a drama setter I'll be the first to set it, homie
You can bet it, just don't get in the way
Of my cheddar, man, 'cause I'm a drama setter

I don't go looking for no trouble
But somehow the trouble always finds me
Don't make me have you in the trauma center
With your momma crying 'cause her only son is dying
She don't know it's just your karma catchin up
'Cause I'm a drama setter

Since Yayo is home, them A-Rs is drawn
Obie's Gorilla-Unit, fuck affiliation
We are one, it is senseless for you to prevent this
The 40 cal'll put you up under some photosynthesis

At any given instant another incident
You just got a glimpse of Obie and Yay's temperament
And we holding them Ks, that's why homie won't age
Isn't it that Tony's enraged, they thow him in cages

But now my nigga's loose, our crews is bulletproof
All brought to you from whom's pupils' baby blues
His short fuses put your portrait on the news
Nigga, them screws is loose when you fuckin with them Shady dudes

I'm a drama setter, grippin my berretta
Sippin Armeretta, man, you crazy if you think I'ma let up
I told you I'm a drama setter I'll be the first to set it, homie
You can bet it, just don't get in the way
Of my cheddar, man, 'cause I'm a drama setter

I don't go looking for no trouble
But somehow the trouble always finds me
Don't make me have you in the trauma center
With your momma crying 'cause her only son is dying
She don't know it's just your karma catchin up
'Cause I'm a drama setter

I got fat while I was gone but now I'm here
And yall rappers only bust shots only in fear
Chinchillas on my back, itchy fingers on the Mac
Get scrilla off of crack, get 50's shooter back

Listen homie, don't let them niggaz amp you money
Cause I got niggaz in Queens that kill for Pamper money
Move like kaiser, Jayson Williams slaughter the driver
My daughter Maniyah, know that the kid spit fire

Reality rap, nigga check my salary cap
I give guns to my soldiers with a battery pack
What you know about light planes and heavy coke
And them drugs being smuggled on them fast speed boats

It's the rap tycoon, Tony y'all all know me
See me on MTV, I'm a parolee
I was out for twelve hours and went right back in
For three hots and one cot doing time in the pen

I'm a drama setter, grippin my berretta
Sippin Armeretta, man, you crazy if you think I'ma let up
I told you I'm a drama setter I'll be the first to set it, homie
You can bet it, just don't get in the way
Of my cheddar, man, 'cause I'm a drama setter

I don't go looking for no trouble
But somehow the trouble always finds me
Don't make me have you in the trauma center
With your momma crying 'cause her only son is dying
She don't know it's just your karma catchin up
'Cause I'm a drama setter

Yeah, nigga, thank you Marshall
Ha ha, no problem, we don't stop, nah
Save the best for the last, talk of New York
Thoughts of a Predicate Felon, baby
Yeah, man

Blue Hefner, Lloyd Banks, you know
Buck Marley, Young Buck, Curtis 'Interscope' Jackson
'Shady-Aftermath' Mathers, ooh
Olivia, O. Trice, Stat Quo

We gonna keep getting this money
Y'all rappers gonna keep hatin
Fuck y'all, y'all want problems?
I'm built for this shit, Shady-Aftermath, G-Unit
We run this rap shit

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a3925a93510fe1f5476e6f4ce362353b

T For Texas - Lyrics - Southern Knights - Lynyrd Skynyrd

Title: T For Texas
Album: Southern Knights
Artist: Lynyrd Skynyrd
Composer(s): Jimmie Rodgers, 1827-193

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Give me a T for Texas, give me a T for Tennessee
Give me a T for Texas, give me a T for Tennessee
Give me a T for Thelma, woman made a fool out of me

If you don't want me baby, mama you sure don't got to stall
If you don't want me baby, mama you sure don't got to stall
I've had more pretty women than a passenger train can haul

I'm gonna buy myself a shotgun, one with a long shiny barrel
I'm gonna buy myself a shotgun, one with a long shiny barrel
I'm gonna shoot myself a rounder, oh that stole away my gal

I'd rather drink your muddy water, sleep down in a hollow log
I'd rather drink your muddy water, sleep down in a hollow log
Than to be in Atlanta Georgia, treat me like a dirty dog

I don't have to go for that

If you don't want me baby, mama you sure don't got to stall
If you don't want me baby, mama you sure don't got to stall
Well I've had more pretty women than a passenger train can haul
That ain't all

I'd rather drink your muddy water, sleep down in a hollow log
I'd rather drink your muddy water, sleep down in a hollow log
Log, log log yeah
Than to be in Atlanta Georgia, treated like a dirty dog

Oh give me a T for Texas, give me a T for Tennessee
Give me a T for Thelma, woman made a fool out of me
Give me a T for Texas, give me that T for Tennessee
Give me a T for Thelma, woman made a fool out of me

One more time
Give me a T for Thelma, oh that woman made a fool
I said said oh, that woman made a fool out of me, yeah

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0ca118a5134619c26caed989c194e1e7

Fireman - Lyrics - Drag On

Title: Fireman
Artist: Drag On
Composer(s): Norman Jesse Whitfield, Curtis Mayfield, Barrett Strong, Anthony Parrino, M Smalls

Lyric:
I don't really wanna hurt nobody
I just wanna live my life
Feel me, c'mon baby
(Elite)
Where we at baby?
Let's get it, c'mon

How many niggas ever seen a shotgun shot?
Look like somethin', comin' at you nonstop
A James Brown make you say it loud
Let's walk through this block, head up

And anybody can pop a lead off
Let me see you shoot a .50 caliber and pop a head off
We can read it all I said [unverified] who's ever in my target
I'm gonna end it all

Some niggas better move back
(Move back)
Somebody better duck they head
'Cuz ya buddy mom's 'bout to be in the all black
'Cuz a nigga white-tee, 'bout to turn red

And I don't give a fuck
When I'm a sitting before the judge
"Yeah, I did it, what?" Pumpin' in the cell by myself
'Cuz I don't wanna hurt nobody

I'm that hood, I'm those streets
I'm them lyrics enemies
I'm that weed, I'm that [unverified]
I'm that sex that you need

I'm that nigga wit yo wife
Sound like plumber, playing pipe
I'm that match that you light
When you ain't got no life
I'm your fireman

Who the fuck say drag couldn't come back?
(He said it)
Now, where my gun at, nigga won that
'Cuz I done raised a lot of niggas
And now I want my sons back

I catch a nigga at a party
Matter of fact I be up in his lobby
Lettin' my man hold my shotty niggas
I don't wanna hurt nobody

With some guns, I gotta do, what I gotta do
Pull out and then shoot who I gotta shoot
Hang a nigga off the roof, by his shoes and slip
I hope he got a parachute

I'm in the zone dogg
I'm by myself at my home dogg
Everybody just leave me the fuck alone dogg
'Cuz I don't wanna hurt nobody

I'm that hood, I'm those streets
I'm them lyrics enemies
I'm that weed, I'm that [unverified]
I'm that sex that you need

I'm that nigga wit yo wife
Sound like plumber, playing pipe
I'm that match that you light
When you ain't got no life
I'm your fireman

I wasn't grown right
My head wasn't screwed on tight
And so I pause every line
'Cuz it take time, for a boss
To be mad bout his crime

This how I deal with a snitch
Cut his tongue out and mail it to his bitch
'Cuz when a nigga run his lips
That makes me wanna hurt somebody

But I ain't that nigga that, uhh
Come over for chitter-chatter
'Cuz if you owe me a favor, talking don't really matter
Either you got it or you don't or you will or you won't

Trying to take you dough, you ain't no better, hide your thoughts
Now you on life support and can't cry might die driving
Pull the stick, I'm gonna pull up in my Audi niggas
'Cuz I don't wanna hurt nobody

I'm that hood, I'm those streets
I'm them lyrics enemies
I'm that weed, I'm that [unverified]
I'm that sex that you need

I'm that nigga wit yo wife
Sound like plumber, playing pipe
I'm that match that you light
When you ain't got no life
I'm your fireman, I'm your fireman

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4ed7300fa57928427a980678377da19a

Die - Lyrics - Lupe Fiasco's The Cool - Lupe Fiasco

Title: Die
Album: Lupe Fiasco's The Cool
Artist: Lupe Fiasco
Composer(s): Demarco Lamonte Castle, Wasalu Muhammad Jaco, Rudolph Loyola Lopez

Lyric:
I present the death of The Cool

Well I heard like a group of cows
That all ya enemies wanna shoot you down
They got AK-47s and a bunch of Mac 11s
Semi-automatic weapons that produce kapows

Word on the street is, they all got heaters
They gon' hit you up and you ain't even gon' see it
You got a lotta money, I ain't tryin' be funny
But they say, "Where you goin'? You ain't even gon' need it"

They see you ridin' 'round, shinin' with ya
Fine round diamonds pretty green-eyed lady
Been on the sideline poutin', while you prime time poppin'
Hungry niggaz want a piece of your pastry

I suggest you protect yo' bakery
'Cause they comin' for yo' head
And it's a bounty on that chain
That's hangin' from yo' neck, they said

I don't know, what you've been told in your ear
But I hear it's goin' down, somebody gotta
(Die)
Don't know, what you been told in your ear
But business goin' round, somebody gotta
(Die)

Hit a nigga wit the mini-Mac strap
Clap any nigga think he gettin' Gs' down here
In a meter, any nigga gettin money and my honey
Man, I heard Micheal Young is the re-clown near

Run up on a nigga from the back wit a Mac
Gon' be strapped 'cause a nigga finna squeeze off ten
Run up on this nigga 'Lac, rat-ta-tat-tat
Click clack, where this nigga at? I need sin

Shit is goin' down ever I see him
Bump a nigga out like Oxy-10
And keep a couple of dollars up in the wallet
To pay the cops so they can never box me in
(Die)

That's what I'm thinkin'
While ridin' around polishin' this big pistol
I'ma catch him in the wind, pray the gun don't jam
So until we meet again, nigga it's cool

I don't know, what you've been told in your ear
But I hear it's goin' down, somebody gotta
(Die)
Don't know, what you been told in your ear
But business goin' round, somebody gotta
(Die)

Don't pay them niggaz no mind
They hatin' on you, ain't nobody witta shotty
And plannin' on doin' a robbery, itchin' to catch a body
Creepin' in a stolen jalopy, out there waitin' on you

I'm sittin' in a stolen car, finna rob this nigga
Should I let the mini-Mac or the shotgun hit him?
I been waitin' all day, tryin' spot this nigga
I can't let him get away, I'ma pop this nigga, uh

Plus they don't know about the chopper in the trunk
The Glocks in a box and the nine on tuck
The bulletproof glass, the 40's in the stash
You pull the steerin' wheel and it pop on up

Forty caliber stashed up in the stash box
Bulletproof windows, you couldn't break 'em wit a padlock
Ak in the trunk, where the sounds bump
Two twin Glock 40's and a nine and this damn clock

Man, we finna go up in this club, show a lil' love
Get a few drinks, holla at some girls
Snatch up a pair, leave outta there
Put some 'dro in the air, then go and get some grub

I say we go up in this club, show a lil' love
Get a few drinks, holla at some girls
Snatch up a pair, leave outta there
Put some 'dro in the air, then catch a few slugs

Ay, ay, ay, pull over right here, I gotta take a pee
And don't go nowhere, nigga wait for me
And if some niggaz do kill you in the next few minutes
Just remember my nigga, it's a heaven for a G

Ay ay, hold this right there I'll be
I'll be right back, I gotta take a piss man hold on
Fo' sho, ay man, ay don't leave I'll be right back
Ay, don't leave I'll be back

Hurry your ass up man, damn
Coolest nigga what, Coolest nigga what
Coolest nigga what, hustla fo' life, ay man
Aiyyo, nigga hurry yo' ass up, man

Cool ass nigga man, fuckin' three in the mornin'
Coolest muh'fucker in the world man
Niggaz ain't fuckin' with me man
Nigga high, smokin' fly ass car

I run these motherfuckin' streets
Niggaz out here lookin' for me
Nigga, I wish a motherfucker would
Ay nigga hurry yo' ass up, nigga, damn

Wassup now, nigga?
Ain't too cool now, is you nigga?

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a2b592d75715536acd974d42007fc9e7

Break Da Law 2001 - Lyrics - The Mix Tape, Vol. 4: 60 Minutes Of Funk - Funkmaster Flex

Title: Break Da Law 2001
Album: The Mix Tape, Vol. 4: 60 Minutes Of Funk
Artist: Funkmaster Flex
Composer(s): Paul Beauregard, Earl Patrick Houston, Jordan Houston

Lyric:
Boy, it's about to get real scurry up in here
You got the original, break da law's up in here for you hoes
Three 6 Mafia, Project Pat
Weak niggas guard your grills, tuck your chains in your shirts
It's goin' down, break da law, nigga

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

We ain't playing, young nigga, who the fuck I said we playin?
We just 'bout to kill yo' ass and it's already planned
Too many bullshit niggas done, been up in my click
But I spit them boys out 'cause they tasting like some shit

I admit my click now, is nothin' but Memphis best
But I had to delete a lot clowns in the process
Fuck that shit, we keepin' them bitches hot
'Cause we making them millions and they hairs ain't in the spot

Haters mad on the town 'cause a nigga got it made
Wanna rock they fuckin' songs but these junkies ain't gettin' paid
Slammin' doors, pimpin' hoes while you lemons in a daze
When I step up in the club, I be glistenin' wit a glaze

I would let you hit this clown but you bitches can't behave
I would let you hit this fire but you bitches smokin' safe
Better catch up with yo kind 'cause you tip me from your grave
When a nigga catch you slippin', it's that beam in yo' face

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

See, I could hit a, hit a, stick a, stick a, get a nigga fast
I'm kicking in some doors, I'm puttin' a nigga on his ass
And if he talkin' trash, I put him in a bag
A body fucking bag, man, I shoulda wore a mask

I stick a stick and move, I body-body bruise
I break the fuckin' law and I ain't playin' with you fools
You gotta attitude, now watch me use my tool
I lock and fuckin' load and let that motherfucker loose
(Blow)

I know this nigga who got punked out after every class
He was a bitch in school and now he tote a gun and badge
Put on a uniform and now he think he super bad
Man, fuck your vest, you still get laid to rest under the grass

I do not give a fuck because you are a officer
I put you in your coffin sir, you fuckin' wit a slaughterer
Some police don't serve protective, they bangin' pussy in projects
Some niggas pay him off to sell they dope around his set

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

Breakin' laws, glock in drawers, whip it out and take a taste
You can smell my fuckin' nuts while this tome is in yo face
Shove the barrel down your throat, inhale bullets like some smoke
I'ma leave these bitches dead, cut a sunroof in your head

You get stomped in yo mug when I shoot, then I peel out
Right before dat happen, I'ma tear yo fuckin' grill out
Beat you bitches down 'til you covered in your own blood
Shoot a couple of rounds from my house, ain't no fuckin' love

And one of y'all niggaz wanna get some, I got some
Blow they fuckin' ass off, double barrel shotgun
Don't be comin' my way, bodys stank like moth balls
Swing a iron bat to yo head like a golf ball

Ride up on yo ass then I let the luga sweep
I'm the judge and the jury when I see you in the street
It's da Project nigga, roll, ready mane, to kill a hoe
Put the thang to you head squeeze the trigger let it blow

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
Break da law, we ain't playin'
We ain't playin', we ain't playin'

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98513407b48192dbd96614b4ed26481b

Show 'Em - Lyrics - BTNHResurrection - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: Show 'Em
Album: BTNHResurrection
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, James Edward Thomas, Charles Scruggs, Bryon Mc Cain, Stanley Howse, Anthony Henderson

Lyric:
Shit, who Bone Thugs?
Hell yeah Bone Thugs
Man them niggas broke up a long time ago
Nigga what the fuck you talking 'bout?
Mmm huu

Shit nigga I'll tell you one thing
Ain't nothing like that buddah lova bomb shit baby
You right about that shit right there
You know, Is that right?

Heh heh
Nigga you gotta be kidding me
What?
Nigga give me a drink
Here nigga, here some Hennessey

Man, them niggas can't be dying
Bone Thugs Negro
Don't know where you are?
It can't be over
It ain't over with nigga, what you talkin' bout?
Nigga gimme a drink

And tha haters can't stand it
They can't believe it Bone Thugs~N~Harmony
(Ha ha ha, goddamn right nigga)
Ruthless Records

What, what rest in peace Little Eazy Godfather
Ooh-eee
Better call the police
Bone Thugs~N~Harmony, 2000 muthafuckas
(Our Father who Art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name)

Will they prostitute me?
Will they prosecute me?
Stay under surveillance
Get out tha county, this nigga ain't got all my fuckin' jewelry
Local niggas, got me fucked up Bone Thugs bitch

Runnin' and we thuggin' it up
Look at a creepin' on ah come up
Ooh, we don't wanna murda ya, and it's so mysterious
How many niggas wanna kill us will they run up?

Come kill me hater, murder with the AK
Play our, play our C Town, all the way through T Town
Northcoast keep goin'
Ready for the Midwest invasion y'all niggas keep growin'

But know that I know we was saken
Fuck shit some niggas can't take it, respect that
But we poets and if you don't squash it, fuck some rap shit
I be on some many mack your ass attack shit
Ready to back that, now who rollin'? Bone

Krayzie up in this muthafucka
Nigga I'm rollin', and ain't leavin' this muthafucka until somebody dead
And even though we know niggas bust back
Big bullets givin' muthafuckas heart attacks

Unload Tat-tat-tat-tat
Krayzie Bone never did roll with no hoes
Hell naw we lettin' muthafuckas know
Everybody on the floor

And this ain't no goddamn joke
Nigga, break yourself or get broke
All I want is the money my cash flow
And I'm leaving on the first thing smoking out to Cleveland
We gotta get even

Even if it means I got to stop a muthafucka from breathin'
And I'm waitin' for niggas to plot to rob me
Nigga that can explain the reason you fucked up, bleedin'
Never forgot about guns, never forgot how to load 'em
Never forgot how to shoot 'em

Always a thug nigga what? Fuck it, let's shoot up the club
If any of you niggas get pumped
Thinkin' you thug and you jump, nigga, you goin' get stomped
And we goin' shut this whole thang down

Going out with a big bang, pow
And that's how the thugs do it
You know we get down and dirty
Nigga, you know the story, don't make me, boil me

Let's get ready for war
Last year we was humble, nigga, this year we heartless
So, any nigga that want static
Come meet us outside in the yard, bitch

It's a hell of a job, when you marry the mob
I put a ring on my finger and say goodbye to my kids
Never ever will I be a legal citizen collectin' my dividends
Til the law ends, flossin'

Rollin' in my Benz I go against the grain
See, we ain't go change
I take an eye for a eye
Either thug or you die, and I ain't goin' cry

Rock a bye bye, nigga, die-die
Got a grudge against the judge
Tryin' to lock up my thugs
Wanna see us fall short

Fuck it, I'ma blow up the court and show 'em no remorse
Hit 'em up with the C4, backdoor
Nigga, let Stack go
I'ma attack with rap and show the crooked ass law no love

Better let dogs loose, got him, hold him up
And on top of that, these niggas fuckin' with 'cuz
All the real niggas in the streets with heat
If you really got beef, then buck it, fuck it
Nigga get disgusted, commit that 187 in public

If you runnin' for your life
In hot pursuit and you got to shoot to stay free, scream
Murda on the government, take me
No surrender, no retreat

Might as well say
Fuck this rappin', what's happenin'?
Layzie goin' out blastin' I'm smashin' on
Any muthafucka who be thinkin' they gon
Get they ass off without gettin' a little action

I crept and I came, down for my thang, man
It's a different game
Muthafuckas out callin' my name, but I'ma keep it the same
Figured I changed, nigga, fuck the fame

It ain't no mystery about mine
Same little nigga from the double nine
Every time, I keeps it real with shit you can feel
Still to the glock glock

Aw yeah, I'ma hit 'em with the murda mo
See 'em, better let it go
Bet they gon' run, run nine millimeter plus
I got a nigga beat or when it ain't enough
I got my shotgun

Now, how many niggas wanna roll with me?
Y'all say you real, then we'll see
Will you ride for me? Will you die for me?
If I pop somebody, straight up lie for me?

There he go, now slowly approach start buckin' but baby, no kills
Hit him low, we gotta get money so fuck it just show him what's real
'Cause it's all about money, money, yeah
Don't get in my way

Fuckin' with my money 'cause that could surely get you killed
Better find somebody to play with
'Cause I really ain't out to play bitch
Serious 'bout mine 'cause you're runnin' out of time
And talkin' that shit'll get you touched, bitch

Now you know that we ain't into
That rappin' back and forth on no song
Shit, like we ain't got nothin' else to talk about
But you on that hoe shit

Get the fuck outta my way
They say they move down and side to side
I beg to part your stupid ass clean out my path
Nigga, when the bullet blow
One bullet for this silly muthfucka

Your bloodbath, baby livin' in the day that made me sick in tha head
So crazy, interrogation
So many haters aggravate, so I convey and toss grenades
You niggas wanna be the T H U G?

Please, like me but can't see me
Bend and roll like a fuckin' hog
Muthafuck, 5th Dawg is definitely too damned greedy, sleazy
So many hoes screamin', bitch, skeeze me

Tease my nuts, get up on the thug stroll darlin'
Stack my dollars up to the ceiling nigga, with a mob
And creepin' through the neighborhood robbin' damn
It's a man on the roof with a gun, better run

It's your chance
Runnin' through servin' a dum dum to you
I'm a unique Bone Thug man
Stop wonderin' why did he leave that bloody, dead body gone

The nigga thought he could fuck with mine
But you'll never find no others more like my kind
You heard my niggas willin' to get down and dirty
I don't give a fuck
See the villain trudgin', nigga, peelin' slugs

A muthafucka here to show you
Who the realest thugs and that's us, the original thugstas
Subliminal criminal way to kill an individual
Bone clone niggas that thinkin' that they invincible
But not a real, I'm here to let you know, for sure, hoes

Yeah niggas, Bone back in the house once again
Bringin' y'all niggas that real shit
Lil Layzie, Bizzy, Wish, Krayzie, and that nigga Flesh
Wanna say what's up to all
Them real ass niggas out there feelin' this thug shit

And fuck all y'all player hatin' ass
Clonin' ass, wannabe Eazy-E Bone Thug Mo Thug ass niggas
We told y'all niggas this shit was eternal
Eternal, eternal, eternal, eternal, eternal

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e1886baa8779f22730d2986ab804c85d

Ghetto Cowboy - Lyrics - The Collection: Vol. 2 - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: Ghetto Cowboy
Album: The Collection: Vol. 2
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Felecia Lindsey, Jimmy Lee Burke, Kamilha Greer, Anthony Henderson

Lyric:
You better count your money
Ghetto cowboy

The name is Krayzie 'Big Bad Ass' Bone
Wanted up north for all the gold that I stole
Along with some cash
Even took the mayor's daughter

Now, that there's kidnappin', but she was with it, so I brought her
Then, got myself into a whole heap of trouble
Double-crossed by the law, so there's nobody to run to, yeah
It's just me and my sawed-off shotgun

Outlaw call him Leather Face, I'm headed for the West
Heard they got a couple banks in town that ain't been held up yet
Well, uh, I oughta make it by sundown
I figure that's enough time for me to get the whole rundown

So, I continue my mission
It's gettin' dark, so I'm watchin' for them damn
Injuns they like to catch ya, then they rob and split
I be a rootin'-tootin'-shootin' damn fool, protectin' my chips

All of a sudden, I heard somebody rumble in the bushes
Stop my horse
"Whoa, Nellie, who in the bushes?
You better speak out or I'm a let my shotgun song sing out"

Who is this? I hope this ain't the law
Jump out the bushes with my sawed-off shotgun
C'mon out, right now. I'm gettin' angry
Took a step back, 'cause it could get dangerous

Please don't shoot
It's just me, Thug Queen, the horse-stealer
Then, why the hell is you hidin'
In them bushes?

I'm wanted in four counties for armed robbery
Killed to two sheriffs, six of his best men want my head
Stole two horses
Thought you was the law, that's why I jumped in the bushes

Goodness, now, she was hotter than the barrel on fire
But I could use her for the job, so I told her to ride, c'mon
May I ask you what you headed
To the West for?

I got a partner, got a plan for some dough
And if you're down, you can pick up yourself a pretty penny
Be in town in a minute
Now be sure if you're with it

We out before the sun rise
Gotta stallion for your partner to ride
Hit the saloon for the moonshine
Down for whatever, let's ride, let's ride

These directions say we go to Tucson, Arizona
When we arrive, we'll cop a place we can bunk
And meet my boy in the mornin'
For details and hook-up

You better count your money
Ghetto cowboy

Rise and shine, good mornin'
Howdy, nine o'clock we meet my boy in the saloon in the valley
Now, I done came a long way
And I don't wanna be late

Tell him I'll make it to him 'cause you know we ain't
Move out, giddyup, giddyup, giddyup
You better count your money
Ghetto cowboy

I'm peepin' Krayzie's wanted poster in the saloon
So I assume it'll be trouble around here pretty soon
Glance across the room, I see this youngster getting ready to fight
But if he mess up the night
I think that Krayzie just might take his life
So, I approach him, and I pause

Look, man, I really don't wanna brawl
But won't you chill before them laws come messin' up this master plan?
Since he already rowdy, I just asked the man
Hey, you want some work? Well, partner, put in your bid
And by the way, now what's your name? They call me Layzie the Kid

The name's Powder P, can I get a twelve gauge?
Outlaw, everyday on the front page
Mister Kid, if you give me the lowdown
Me and Black Jack be ready for the showdown
With two double-barrels pointed at whatever
We'll stick together, I'm purty clever

So saddle up, jump on the bandwagon
Because it's all goin' down
I heard a guy run in the bar screamin'
Krayzie's in town

Now when we get to the saloon, you don't worry
Wait outside, and don't be stealin' nobody's damn horses
Step inside the bar
Lay the kid, you son of a gun

Hey, man, I'm glad you made it safely
Now let's go have some fun
And this my partner Powder
He's a young gun

Howdy

Mighty glad to meet ya, son
Oh yeah, you know I also brought a friend along
Meet Thug Queen, the horse peddler
Straggler, just met her

Howdy, partner, already got the horses saddled up
I hope you good at robbin' banks like you rustle that cattle up
Now, y'all, it's gon' be gettin' dark real soon
I think you're right, I say we move c'mon, let's move out

Giddyup, giddyup, giddyup, move out
You better count your money
Ghetto cowboy

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24b62f0b299d0b90984a7f3686ed1993

Eternal - Lyrics - E. 1999 Eternal - Bone Thugs N Harmony

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T Is For Texas - Lyrics - Johnny Cash

Title: T Is For Texas
Artist: Johnny Cash
Composer(s): Jimmie Rodgers, 1827-193

Lyric:
T for Texas, T for Tennessee
T for Texas, T for Tennessee
T for Thelma, the gal that made a wreck out of me

If you don't want me, mama you sure don't have to stall
If you don't want me, mama you sure don't have to stall
I can get more women than a passenger train can haul

I'm gonna buy me a pistol just as long as I'm tall
I'm gonna buy me a pistol just as long as I'm tall
I'm gonna shoot poor Thelma, just to see her jump and fall

And if that's your mama, you better tie her to your side
If that's your mama, better tie her to your side
'Cause if she flags my train I'm sure gonna let her ride

I'm gonna buy me a shotgun with a great long shiny barrel
I'm gonna buy me a shotgun with a great long shiny barrel
I'm gonna shoot that rounder that stole away my gal

I'd rather drink muddy water and sleep in a hollow log
I'd rather drink muddy water and sleep in a hollow log
Than to be in Atlanta, treated like a dirty dog

Well, it's T for Texas, T for Tennessee
T for Texas, T for Tennessee
T for Thelma, the gal that made a wreck out of me

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76601e5392c0911639cd61a0adc4b3bb

T For Texas (Blue Yodel No. 1) - Lyrics - Billy Walker

Title: T For Texas (Blue Yodel No. 1)
Artist: Billy Walker
Composer(s): Jimmie Rodgers, 1827-193

Lyric:
T for Texas, T for Tennessee
T for Texas, T for Tennessee
T for Telma the gal
Who made a wreck out of me

If you don't want me, mama, you sure don't have to stall
If you don't want me, mama, you sure don't have to stall
'Cause I can get more women than a passenger train can haul

Gonna buy me a pistol just as long as I'm tall
Gonna buy me a pistol just as long as I'm tall
I'm gonna shoot poor Telma just to see her jump and fall

Rather drink muddy water, sleep in a hollow log
Rather drink muddy water, sleep in a hollow log
Than to be in Atlanta treated like an old hound dog

Gonna buy me a shotgun with a big long shiny belt
Gonna get me a shotgun with a big long shiny belt
Gonna shoot that rounder the one who stole away my gal

T for Texas, T for Tennessee

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f159106fdda6337e0476b310293fb064

Ghetto Cowboy - Lyrics - Mo Thugs

Title: Ghetto Cowboy
Artist: Mo Thugs
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Felecia Lindsey, Jimmy Lee Burke, Kamilha Greer, Anthony Henderson

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
You better count your money, ghetto cowboy

The name is Krayzie Big Bad Ass Bone
Wanted up north for all the gold that I stole
Along with some cash, even took the mayors daughter
Now, that there's kidnappin' but she was with it, so I brought her

Then, got myself into a whole heap of trouble
Double-crossed by the law, so there's nobody to run to
Yeah, it's just me and my sawed-off shotgun
Outlaw call him Leather Face

I'm headed for the West, heard they got
A couple banks in town that ain't been held up yet
Well, uh, I oughta make it by sundown
I figure thats enough time for me to get the whole rundown

So, I continue my mission, it's gettin' dark
So I'm watchin' for them damn Injuns
They like to catch ya, then they rob and split
I be a rootin' tootin' shootin' damn fool, protectin' my chips

All of a sudden, I heard somebody rumble in the bushes
Stop my horse, whoa, Nellie, who in the bushes?
You better speak out or I'm a let my shotgun song sing out
Thug Queen, the horse stealer?

Who is this? I hope this ain't the law
Jump out the bushes with my sawed-off shotgun
C'mon out, right now I'm gettin' angry
Took a step back, 'cause it could get dangerous

Please don't shoot, it's just me
Then, why the hell is you hidin' in them bushes
I'm wanted in four counties for armed robbery
Killed to two sheriffs, six of his best men with my hand
Stole two horses

Thought you was the law, that's why I jumped in the bushes
Goodness now, she was hotter than the barrel on fire
But I could use her for the job, so I told her to ride, c'mon

May I ask you what you headed to the West for
I got a partner, got a plan for some dough
And if you're down, you can pick up yourself a pretty penny
Be in town in a minute, now be sure if yore with it

We out before the sun rise
Gotta stallion for your partner to ride
Hit the saloon for the moonshine
Down for whatever, let's ride, let's ride

These directions say we go to Tucson, Arizona
When we arrive, we'll cop a place we can bunk
And meet my boy in the mornin' for details and hook-up
You better count your money, ghetto cowboy

Rise and shine, good mornin' howdy
Nine o clock we meet my boy in the saloon in the valley
Now, I done came a long way, and I don't wanna be late
Tell him I make ya, 'cause you know we ain't
Move out, giddyup, giddyup, giddyup
(Whip cracks, horses neigh)

You better count your money, ghetto cowboy
I'm peepin' Krayzies wanted poster in the saloon
So I assume it'll be trouble around here pretty soon
Glance across the room

I see this youngster getting ready to fight
But if he mess up the night
I think that Krayzie just might take his life
So, I approach him and I pause

Look, man, I really don't wanna brawl
But won't you chill before them laws come
Messin' up this master plan
Since he already rowdy, I just asked the man

Hey, you want some work?
Well, partner, put in your bid
And by the way, now what's your name?
They call me Layzie the Kid

The names Powder P, can I get a twelve gauge?
Outlaw, everyday on the front page
Mister Kid, if you give me the lowdown
Me and Black Jack be ready for the showdown

With two double-barrels pointed at whatever
Well stick together, I'm purty clever
So saddle up, jump on the bandwagon
Because its all goin' down
I heard a guy run in the bar screamin' "Krayzies in town"

Now when we get to the saloon, you dont worry
Wait outside and don't be stealin', nobody's damn horses
Step inside the bar, Lay the Kid, you son of a gun
Hey, man, I'm glad you made it safely

Now let's go have some fun
And this my partner Powder
He's a young gun
Howdy

Mighty glad to meet ya, son
Oh yeah, you know I also brought a friend along
Meet Thug Queen, the horse peddler
Straggler, just met her

Howdy, partner, already got the horses saddled up
I hope you good at robbin' banks like you rustle that cattle up
Now, y'all, it's gon' be gettin' dark real soon
I think you're right, I say we move

C'mon, let's move out
Giddyup, giddyup, giddyup, move out
(Whip cracks, horses neigh)
You better count your money, ghetto cowboy

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700206736da8d6ab015c8619f3ed8f69

Shooter - Lyrics - The Evolution of Robin Thicke - Robin Thicke

Title: Shooter
Album: The Evolution of Robin Thicke
Artist: Robin Thicke
Composer(s): James D Gass, Bobby B Keyes, Dwayne Michael Carter, Robert Daniels, Robin A Thicke

Lyric:
Yeah, yeah, yeah, Weezy, baby, y'all don't get shot
Rapid fire, what you know about it?
I brought my homie along for the ride
He strapped, he can't wait to come out the barrel

I heard some shouts like "Down on the floor"
Then even louder, "We got shooters, shooter"
I turnin' around, I was starin' at chrome
Shotgun watches door, got security good

Jumped right over counter
Pointed gun at winkin' teller
I'm your shooter, shooter, shooter

My hands up, my hands up
They want me with my hands up
Oh, shooter

My hands up, my hands up
They want me with my hands up
Oh, shooter

So many doubt 'cause I come from the South
But when I open up my mouth, all bullets come out
Bang, die, bitch nigga, die, I hope you bleed a lake
I'ma play X-ray, helpin' y'all see the fake

I'm just tryin' to be the great, tryin' to get a piece of cake
Take it offa your plate, eat it right in your face
They got a whole lot to say but I don't listen
Call me Automatic Weezy, bitch, I keep spittin', pow

With all these riches and all these riches
But ain't no loaners around
They thinkin' about shooters that, shooters that
Guns, girls, ladies that, gunners that
Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shooter

Yeah, hands up
They want me with my hands up
Oh, shooter

No, no but I'm not
I just cry, mama, I think they, hey
I think they want me to surrender, shooter

And to the radio stations, I'm tired of bein' patient
Stop bein' rapper racists, region haters
Spectators, dictators, behind door dick takers
It's outrageous

You don't know how sick you make us
I wanna to throw up like chips in Vegas
But this is Southern, face it
If we too simple, then y'all don't get the basics

Lady walks into a shotgun surprise
Dropped to her knees, saw her life before her eyes
He said, "Bitch is gonna get it", everybody gon' regret it
I'm your shooter

My hands up, my hands up
They want me with my hands up
Oh, shooter

My hands up, my hands up
They want me with my hands up
Oh, shooter

Sock soakin' wet, I been runnin', y'all
I reload every hundred yards, I'm comin' forward
Better know me, Lil' Wayne, just call me Lord
Hard, take pain like Tylenols, raw way past par

For I'm some shit you never saw
I take you to the shootout, baby, win, lose or draw
Yeah and then they ask who, when, where, how
And my reply was simply pow

They want me to surrender
Oh, shooter
My hands up, my hands up
They want me to surrender
Oh, shooter

No, no
I promise no surrender
I got my burner
And I'm your shooter

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