Testo Shoot Wit - Onyx
Testo della canzone Shoot Wit (Onyx), tratta dall'album Onyx Versus Everybody
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand, put your hand, put your hand, put your hand
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand, put your hand, put your hand, put your hand
Yeah yo
I'm a threat to society, a nigga that can read and write
We all stress-smoking weed at night
Playing corners is for gonners, niggas is from the pawn us with guns
We got some enormous more warnings
Still honest as Thomas
Draw on us, that's why we keep it honest
Sippin with the metal got me sleeping with the devil
Creepin in the ghetto, shit gets deeper than the shovel
Some niggas get deported, some niggas just get extorted
Don't get it distorted, 30 shots to get exported
Fuck Balenciagas and dirty Billy Bottegas
The crib at Valencia palace, I'm in Vegas
Pain ain't the villain (uh)
Ain't it the feeling to have penicillin's
Playing with your children
A master mathematics
Smashed on craftmatics
The cashmatics niggas got flashy cash habits
I don't flash if you flash, a plasmatic
The cash that'll crash the porsche
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand, put your hand, put your hand, put your hand
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand, put your hand, put your hand, put your hand
I'd seen so much death in the last fucking year
That I'm wondering who's next, why evil still here?
I'm half deaf, the gun went
Forget everything and run
That's the meaning of fear
Poppa music on the phone, they got it on cell
Locked in your phone nigga, that's why they call it a cell
Got caught with a burner, thought it was straight to jail
But they couldn't charge you with a felony
Got ate the shells, hate the 12th
Broke nigga, break yourself
Hot gun on your forehead, your face should melt
Half the illest shit I did, I can't even mention
Statute of limitations
I come dressed up like UPS
Have your whole family zip tied at your address (yes)
And I don't hate you, if that's what you're thinking
But if you were on fire and I had water, I'd drink it
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand, put your hand, put your hand, put your hand
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand up that you shoot with, shoot with
Put your hand, put your hand, put your hand, put your hand
Credits
Writer(s): Kirk Jones, Fred Lee Scruggs
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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