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go time - bambino lyrics

[verse 1]
woo
i do not know these n*ggas, they mad over music (they mad)
i just be cooling (i just be cooling)
she just got celine, i don’t really do sh*t (i don’t really do sh*t)
you could get low but these bullets gon’ boof sh*t (boom)
that mean him, her, or you hit (boom, boom)
boa, no malibu, we is the movement
they think it’s sweet, i’m a star but i’m still at birth
fill a clip to his outer sp*ce, hit you off this earth
p*ssy, no lacking (no lacking)
put you on the screen like i’m closed captions
show throat like ty
all my flow tactics, headshot, blood splashing
they paint that so graphic (brr, boom)
if there’s a shootout, i’ll walk past it (get boofed)
[verse 2]
gun pop when i get the drop
me and bro spin blocks, two chops
we ain’t scared of cops
see an opp, and he won’t hеar the shots
he won’t get to rеact, bullets knock a n*gga’s head apart
(bow, bow)
don’t care who wanna beef with you
like he can’t share a bed, bullets put his ass to sleep with you (brrah)
in front of cops he won’t speak to you (gang, gang)
just know, on the low, n*gga’s really got that heat for you
(gang, gang)
spin the blocks on a sunday
heard your block was a one way
rip it like the runway
whole gang ’bout gunplay
beam’ll light n*ggas up, like yeah n*gga, demwayz
cold cage, we ordered k9s
they spark your n*ggas up, midnight, or it’s daytime
call gs, he don’t waste time (brr)
bullet pop on a drill n*gga, make him skip state lines
(boom, boom, boom, boom)

[verse 3]
two*two*zero the digital (skrrt)
have the savages run in your vehicle (gang)
they gon’ run up and put about three in you
you gon’ die on the spot, no retrieval (facts)
had his body sticking for a week or two
f*ck boy, are you dumb? we leave you in a he*rs*
i don’t leave the gang, i’m k!lling him first
call paparattzi, he with money first, like woah
put the car in the sport, and then belt (skrrt, skrrt)
tango check, we be dipping from 12 (grr, boom)
boom 18s in the check on my belt (gang)
get the bag, ’cause it don’t make itself (nah)
heard the gang, i ain’t calling for self
twenty k, don’t put that on yourself
they gon’ get him chopped off for the wealth (facts)
on your ass, and they screaming for help (gang, gang)
[verse 4]
they hear on the street (facts)
they know i’m elite
i talk ’cause i can’t rap (i’m talking)
get the call for a package
when i get the word, i bet you get saran wrap
(bow, bow, bow, bow)
got them thinking i’m outer sp*ce
i got gel to get it, cl!ck clack, you be out of place
(chop, chop, chop)
you n*ggas irrelevant
no evidence, tell the cops they don’t got a trace
(bow, bow, bow, bow)
i’m with an ap
trey pound, it don’t got no safety
if you on me, then you better pay me
or tell the devil “god’s plan’ll save me” (at all)
i got nine shots for you rookies (bruh)
if they want me, tell ’em n*ggas “book me” (buh, buh, buh, buh)
skipped school, i wasn’t playing hookie
soft ball hollows for you rookies
(grr, yeah, bow, bow, bow, bow)

[verse 5]
scooped a n*gga, i forgot the truck
but i got to poke her liver like your homie
but i ran into a couple opps, yeah they had the glizzy, they all went up on me (facts)
but they don’t know i called russ
he already driving, yeah, he coming for me
and he okay, even if he driving (buh), i’m up out the window, yeah, he throwing for me
(bow, bow, bow, bow)
that’s why everybody tryna d*ck ride
talking rapper sh*t, i really do this (facts)
that’s when they lie, if you talking janky, i’ll put a n*gga on a news clip (gang)
all you n*ggas always doing interviews
tryna d*ck ride, i ain’t do sh*t
this n*gga say he’ll make n0body safe
but we’re looking at him like “who this?” (gang, gang)
[verse 6]
who the f*ck is this n*gga? (huh?)
who’ll roll when we dusting this n*gga? (rah)
just ran up a hunnid pack n*gga (facts)
you broke, where your money at n*gga? (bum)
still on that same sh*t, still on that gang sh*t (gang)
run up, you getting your brain hit (gang, gang)
n*gga, we dangerous, we put that pain in
i’m mtg, and we banging (brrah)
these n*ggas talk what they not (huh?)
i’m in securing a bag mode
ragers buzzing the last four
i f*ck his b*tch till her ass sore (b*tch)
they heard i ain’t gotta f*ck (b*tch)
they be with that n*gga, he was broke, now my pockets stuck
lil’ bro, get your dollars up (broke)
can’t talk about money with me, you ain’t got enough (broke)
get glocks for the family (glocks)
we shoot till it’s empty
yelling out mb (get big)
you n*ggas embarrassing
i know they envy
n*ggas is deadly
for n*ggas that act tough (huh?)
f*ck all this rap stuff, you will get clapped up (grr)
don’t need no backup (gang)
bro gotta match up, we hit his back up (bow, bow)

- bambino lyrics

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