murder she wrote - ebk jaaybo lyrics
[intro]
aye, 2 1
hey hey hey
[chorus]
first off baby let me start this sh*t off like this
real drills this ain’t no murder that she wrote type of sh*t
face shots and walk downs i was there when he got hit
head tap they left em’ gasping on the curb by his whip
real shooter when it’s time who the f*ck you think they call
i asked that rap n*gga from gang cause when it’s funk he ain’t involved
ask all my pops i can’t be satisfied until i k!ll em’ all
and for the opps that’s sendin’ pictures wit’ my opps we k!llin’ y’all
ah ha, get em’ gonе
[verse]
i shot the b*tch don’t ask who dent em’
my lo hot as wе speak i had to utilize the rental
cuz was dead he ain’t even get a chance to make the statement
been through some real thug sh*t so i pop percs like they skittles
who tryna’ dribble come pick me up i always volunteer
think you gon’ turn this b*tch up well n*gga not in here
somebody turn the ac on i heard it’s hots in there
and i ain’t boxin’ fear
feet kicked up at the market cuz was not aware
huh, aye
but that’s on him tho’
got rap pape but if yo’ house a l!ck it’s a kick door
last game i probably was that youngin’ through yo’ window
12 said we was them hot boys that robbed christmas
won’t never see me exercising i just pop n*ggas
thought he f*ck wit’ us it hurt me when i seen the opps wit’ em’
you n*ggas still ain’t spinned yet there was a drop given
aye, look, i would’ve been through there
that tough guy sh*t cool but i know you scared
it’s only 304’s in my load i d*mn near shoot squares
ain’t tryna’ post up on that block i only hoop there
h*lla different pistols when we slide we don’t shoot fair
huh, aye, that i don’t either
ain’t got a check when i pull up then i won’t meet her
still screamin’ free the 2 4 i miss my bro tweeters
took that big b*tch off his hands cause he don’t need her
i will pop out and act up and that’s on c
his lil brother white flagged the funk he don’t want smoke either
i hand out shootin’ lessons to the dead i think yo’ bro need it
aye
i forgot he was gone
step through they block they f*ck wit’ n*ggas we be steppin’ on
anonymous is my tatic if i did it you would never know
aye
free the b*tch take them cuffs off and let her go
huh
[chorus]
first off baby let me start this sh*t off like this
real drills this ain’t no murder that she wrote type of sh*t
face shots and walk downs i was there when he got hit
head tap they left em’ gasping on the curb by his whip
real shooter when it’s time who the f*ck you think they call
i asked that rap n*gga from gang cause when it’s funk he ain’t involved
ask all my pops i can’t be satisfied until i k!ll em’ all
and for the opps that’s sendin’ pictures wit’ my opps we k!llin’ y’all
ah ha, get em’ gone
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