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Testo Shooter - Lil Wayne feat. Robin Thicke

Testo della canzone Shooter (Lil Wayne feat. Robin Thicke), tratta dall'album Tha Carter II

Yeah, yeah, yeah, haha
Weezy Baby, y'all (Yeah)
Don't get shot, haha
Rapid-fire (Huh?), at your nobody
I brought my homie along for the ride (Da-da-da-da-da-da-da)
He a hater (Da-da-da-da-da-da-da)
He can't wait to come out the barrel, blaow
I heard some shots, like, "Down on the floor" (Bow)
Then even louder, "We got shooters"
(Yeah), shooters (Yeah-yeah, yeah)
I turned around, I was starin' at my ho (Hello)
Look how she watch his door, got security good (Check)
Jumped right over counter, pointed gun at Winky
Tell her I'm your (What you sayin'?)
Shooter, shooter, shooter (Let's go)
With my hands up (Yeah), my hands up (Yeah)
They want me with my hands up (Yeah, I think they)
No, shooter (Think they want me to
Surrender, but no, no-no, I can't do it)
With my hands up (Haha), my hands up (Yeah)
They want me with my hands up (Come on, they want me to surrender)
No, shooter (But no, I can't do it, get 'em, yeah)
So many doubt 'cause I come from the South (My hands up)
But when I open up my mouth, all bullets
Come out (They want me with my hands up)
Bang, die, nigga, nigga, die, I hope you bleed a lake
I'ma play X-ray, helpin' y'all see the fake (My hands up)
I'm just tryna be the great, tryna get a piece of cake
Take it off your plate, eat it right in your face (Ha)
They got a whole lot to say, but I don't listen
Call me Automatic Weezy, shit, I keep spittin', pow
All these bitches and all these riches (Yeah)
But ain't no daughters around (What you sayin'?)
They talkin' 'bout shooters, shooters
All the guns, girls, ladies
Guns, shooters (Okay, okay, okay, come on)
With my hands up, my hands up
They want me with my hands up
I think they want me to surrender, clap)
No, shooter (No, no, what I say, baby? I just popped)
With my hands up, my hands up
They want me with my hands up (I think they want me to surrender)
No, shooter (No, no, that's it, hey)
And to the radio stations (Yeah), I'm tired of bein' patient (Yeah)
Stop bein' rapper racists (You), region haters (You)
Spectators (You), dictators (You)
Behind-door dick-takers, it's outrageous (You)
You don't know how sick you make us (Yeah)
I wanna throw up like chips in Vegas (Boy)
But this is Southern, face it
If we too simple, then y'all don't get the basics (My hands up)
Lady walks into a shotgun surprise (Yeah)
Drops to her knees, saw the lights of her life
She said, "This is gonna get us" (Okay)
"Everybody gon' regret us" (Okay, okay, blaow)
I'm the shooter (Brrt)
With my hands up (Yeah), my hands up (Yeah)
They want me with my hands up (Yeah, yeah)
No, shooter (Ha, yeah, I tried to tell you what I am, baby)
With my hands up (Yeah), my hands up (Yeah)
They want me with my hands up (Sorry
But me can't surrender, me won't surrender)
No, shooter (Me no pretender, yeah)
Socks soakin' wet, I've been runnin' y'all
I reload, every hundred yards
I'm comin' for it, you better know me
Lil Wayne, just call me lord
Hard, take pain like Tylenols
Raw, way past par
Far, I'm some shit you never saw
I'll take you to the shootout, baby, win, lose, or draw
Yeah, and then they ask, "Who, when, where, how?"
And my reply was simply, "Pow," come on
With my hands up, my hands up (Yeah, yeah)
They want me with my hands up (Yeah, yeah)
No, shooter (Ha, yeah, I tried to tell you what I am, baby)
With my hands up, my hands up (Yeah, yeah)
They want me with my hands up (Sorry
But me can't surrender, me won't surrender)
No, shooter (Me no pretender, yeah)
No, no, I promise no surrender
I got my burner
And I'm a shooter



Credits
Writer(s): Dwayne Carter, Robin Thicke, Robert Daniels, James Gass, Robert Keyes
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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