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shooters - rm (uk) lyrics

[intro]
(teedee)
(tom makes beats)

[verse 1: rm]
two shooters on the ride, man are strapped up
last n*gga tried, got his mums gaff blammed up
way before the pandemic i was masked up
would of shot his mum through the blinds but it jammed up
man are soft on the net, tryna talk hard
hand ting came with more t**th than 4 sharks
i remember the first time i let the 4 bark
two days straight i had a twitch in my forearm
n*ggas hate, they ain’t relevant
salty, i’ll pepper dem’
suit on, i’ll do him up elegant
judge givin’ out birds like a pelican
fam your gun don’t beat, man it’s cеlibate
yeah i’m comin’ with stars, no star 9
my cousin got a body on him, he’s a calm guy
my straps likе ryanair, make your darg fly
shh got the .45 like it’s half time
i stay wid’ it, couple pr*cks wanna slap me
draco turn this car to a cat*c
slide out for my family
shoot man, if he don’t die then the wounds gettin’ gangrene
[?] with my shank, givin’ jabs free
live*o when i link up a bad b
[?] or his brains on the backseat
big back, give her two strokes like a banshee
big r’s, i ain’t into the bullsh*t
i could do 3 slides on a full clip
dots came same size as a pool stick
when the funk gets deep n*ggas forfeit
i fed n*ggas even when i didn’t eat food
now i’m tryna turn his off*white tee see through
let it go, no preview
g po want me on the wing, playin’ pro on my p2
[verse 2: stardom]
lappin’ n*ggas like the grand pre
produce that glee, make man flee
bosses, i’ll give you narda, get you done hands free
hip fire, shoot you through my own top, hand speed
i was queuing up for canteen in winson green
tryna pack your boy like i’m into wii
don’t push my war b*ttons, i just want bread
all these guns i bought, i could’ve bought a rm
i wasn’t there but i assisted it, ozil
ot, i ran it up like a phone bill
put this pack in your bra, babe don’t squeal
got one on [?] and where you goin’ with them old drills
don’t shoot and miss if you come for me
i’ll bine you on your doorstep and go asleep comfortably
feds want me in custody
two biscuits, each side custard creams
four litre, mustard seats
violate then there’s repercussions
shooters comin’ in plimsoles, you never hear this reaper comin’
steppers, the road side pepper
old school shooter, google it, francis jeffers
main road, you ain’t on that
had 10 cats in the alley tweakin’, i’m the top cat
sweep the block, i’m the janitor, where the mops at?
he hates my guts, had his gyal chasin’ like cognac

- rm uk lyrics

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