Shooters {?} dead
Don’t worry about me, {?} about the gang
That pole up on my hip
Never {?} when I slip
Still gon’ catch me on my strip
I had to focus where I {?}
Now I’m workin’ on my gift
Young and really made a milly’ off of rap and sh#t like this
And I know these n#gg#s mad
But f#ck it, suck my dick
He was talking sh#t, {?} hollow {?}
JT in the spliff
Wanna be a pack then be my guest and catch a slug
Pull up and I flex, flex, flex, flex, flex
{?} on my ex, ex, ex, ex, ex
I know these n#gg#s they {?}
‘Cause a n#gg# next, next, next, next, next
I was scamming, bigger checks, checks, checks, checks, checks
Run up and we leave you wet, wet, wet, wet, wet
Taking planes it ain’t no jet, jet, jet, jet, jet (?)
{?} we pulled up and we make a mess, mess, mess, mess, mess
Chopper I got aim, aim, aim, aim, aim
Hollow tips they hit your brain, brain, brain, brain, brain
Please don’t think that I’ma (stain ?)
Keep this TEC, I ain’t no lame, lame, lame, lame, lame
All my hitter put in pain, no I won’t go insane
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