shook ones - 22gz & doomsday lyrics
[verse]
fightin’ murder cases, havin’ thoughts i never make it out
shootin’ after shootin’, keep a blixk, can’t let ‘em snake me out
h*lla paranoia, havin’ dreams ‘bout n*ggas stakin’ out
know the protocol, you spot a opp, you better take him out
all we know is chase him down, hit the lights, spin around
when them n*ggas k!lled my pops, heard they had to tape him down
i grew up with murderers, hit him make a shirt of him
youngin’s in the ‘burban trucks, better act like you heard of us
see the jakes we swervin’ ‘em, speedin’, feel the turbulence
i grew up to homicides, masked shootings and burglars
eyes started swirlin’ up, fingers started curlin’ up
body started wormin’ up, he outta there, we turnin’ up
fell in love with servin’ ‘em
dissin’ like who heard of ‘em?
spot him wrap the turban up
slip up and we burnin’ him
tryna gain respect you gotta spin, you tryna earn and sh*t
you ain’t tryna step, you gotta spin, like, what’s your purpose then?
i ain’t get my rep off droppin’ disses, had to*
murder and the power and respect you better learn this sh*t
get fanned down, tried to run we had to lay his man down
get blam downed, callin’ lil leeky and reach his hands out
n*ggas pop a perc and get to slippin’ ‘til they xanned out
everything was planned out, braggin’ how he ran down
n*ggas couldn’t catch him so they spinnin’ for his fam now
they gon’ gun his uncle, brother, sister and his grams now
[?] to that crime like i’m 50
i pray to my blixky
n*ggas get wrapped up and turn to mickey
better watch the backdoor it get tricky
glock came with a switch and with a fifty
brodie get to shootin’, durk nowitzki
tinted car, we bendin’ in a renty
get the lo’, we tryna go get busy
tryna raise the murder rate like philly
i can get you murdered in your city
hit his chest and exit through his kidney
they the shook ones, heard they burned, few oppers took one
get you stuck up, and i dare a n*gga look up
i was booked up, locked down, doin’ pushups
get you jooked up, if we beefin’ ain’t no hook ups
if i up the blixky, gooey sauce, that’s slugs in his noggin
in the city it get sticky keep the kilos from poppin’
catch him slippin’ by the store and leave his brains by the ocky
and we run in his pockets, if he twitch ima pop him
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