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the history - shoot instant lyrics

[verse 1: butch]
shoot first, no questions asked
you’ll be dead before dark hits
in the beef i’m the darkest
you can get your marjay sprayed, auntie layed
my gunplay’s like an arcade game
gun blaze then you p-ss away
gun way past your face and blast your waist
butch c-ssidy, got my gat on me
telling n-ggas “can’t chat for me”
different category
get the picture like a gallery
if we’re pitching then the mac’ll squeeze
my fistful with the pistol
get sent downstairs like a tinsel
and my whole team’s official
gunshots that’ll stop your mouth
bare holes like a brothel house
get pumping out
can’t beef a man
my strap holds a body like a sleeping bag
i’m a g, no gr-ss
i move kilograms
if it’s beef then i dun did it
dun said it, dun set it
gun fetish make your mug severed
i’m a g, you can ask felon
pumping adrenaline when i’m pumping in your melon in
reckless with the weapon ting
reckless endangerment
aiming sh-t, wigging your face, chest and your back
stomach and that
want beef? can’t stomach a gat

[verse 2: rico]
draw from the pocket, squeeze that face
.9 or the chromey trey, get ghost like sp
when the .9 screams, you’ll be dead like six feet
i’m on the road with my shank in my pocket, leave you holy
nine bills the price of the stoney coat
neck shot, gotta aim for the throat
get dropped by the thing that i pulled and squeeze
then aim for your chest, put holes in your coat
copper head all up in your boat
get hit while puffing a blunt
real venom in my spliff
move low with p and low
grind hard tryna break the snow, break the cro
when i back it, it’s not a tease like a stripper show
i’ma clap it, leave heads on these icy roads
bang bang, no ‘hood 2 hood’
me and sp up in your hood
with the .9 i’ma clap out your hood
when it’s on, i’m down for the 187
up close, real close when it burns and tears through linen
n-ggas up on the front page, kindless k!lling
blood spills like a cup of water
mac rings that’s definite slaughter
if i had it my way
your whole town would be covered in red tape
better escape from your estate
when the tec slams that’s death mate

[verse 3: snap capone]
i be banging with a glock like armed cops
.380 shoot you in your face like botox
listen, i be a g like o-dog
throw shots, get a slug lodged in your voicebox
you little p-ssies went and got me started
loaded and blast the cartridge, it’s carnage
i’ll leave your mum stressed and asking for answers
a bullet in your head will leave the p-ssy r-t-rded
snap, i be a hood celeb
when i press the toaster, bullets popping out like a slice of bread
i be a whole ki, you n-ggas ain’t half a z
when i blast, i leave your darg with half a chest
sn and young hef will blast the tec (kk)
you goons best watch your back
’cause if you slip, that’s a sh-ll lodged up in your back
for that gwop and mula, me and the luger will be up in your flat
i can make an entrance, without an exit
slug all up in your appendix
i’m good with a gun, and my knifework is splendid
mac with the clip extended
i bring the drama straight to your house, no eastenders
you’re dead when the uzi bursts
i’ll shoot you out the universe
closed wooden box
get shot for misusing words

- shoot instant lyrics

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