Testo Shooter - Chopped & Screwed - Lil Wayne
Testo della canzone Shooter - Chopped & Screwed (Lil Wayne), tratta dall'album Tha Carter II: Screwed And Chopped
I heard some shots like down on the floor
Now, even louder, we got shooters, shooters, shooters
I turn around, I was staring at chrome
Shotgun, watch his door, got security, good
Jump right over counter, point gun at Winky, tell him
I'm your shooter, shooter, shooter
I'm heading, heading, heading, heading
Hands up, my hands up, they want, they
Want play with my hands up, no shooter
I'm heading, heading, heading, heading
Hands up, my hands up, they want, they
Want play with my hands up, no shooter
So many doubt, 'cause I come from the south
But when I open up my mouth, all bullets come out
So many doubt, 'cause I come from the south
But when I open up my mouth, all bullets come out
So many doubt, 'cause I come from the south
But when I open up my mouth, all bullets come out, bang
Die, bitch, nigga, die, I hope you bleed a lake
I'ma play x-ray, helping y'all see the fake
I'm just trying to be the great, trying to get a piece of cake
Take it off of your plate, eat it right in your face
They got a whole lot to say, but I don't listen
Call me automatic Weezy, bitch, I keep spittin'
All riches, riches, and all switches, switches
Hey, hey, no, no, no, no, sir, no
They talking about shooters, shooters, guns, girls, ladies, guns
Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot
Mama, I think they think
I think they want me to surrender
Mama, I think they think
Me think they want me to surrender
To the radio stations, I'm tired of being patient
Stop being rapper racists, region haters
Spectators, dictators, behind door dick takers, it's outrageous
You don't know how sick you make us
I wanna throw up like chips in Vegas
But this is southern, face it
If we too simple, then y'all don't get the basics
Think she walks into the circle, surprise (yeah)
Dropped to her knees, ask for her life, ask for her life
This, that bitch, is gonna get it
Everybody gon' regret it
I'm your shooter
Hands up, my hands up, they want, they
Want play with my hands up, no shooter
Hands up, my hands up, they want, they
Want play with my hands up, no shooter
Socks soaking wet, I've been running, y'all, I reload
Every hundred yards, I'm coming for her
You better know me, Lil Wayne, just call me lord
Hard, take pain like Tylenols, way, way past poor, far
I'm some shit you never saw
I take you to a shoot out, baby, win, lose, or draw
And then they ask who, when, where, how, and
My reply was simply, pow
Mama, I think they think
Me think they want me to surrender
Mama, I think they think
Me think they want me to surrender
Credits
Writer(s): Dwayne Carter, Robin Thicke, Robert Daniels, James Gass, Robert Keyes
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