Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Crooked I

Shot Ya

 

Shot Ya

(album: The Weeklys, Vol. 4 - 2019)


As we proceed to keep this shit O.G
2019, motherfucker
Infrared beam, motherfucker
(Turn my mic up)
As we proceed to keep this shit O.G
2019, motherfucker
(This motherfucker snappin')
Infrared beam, motherfucker
(Turn my mic up though)
West Coast
(Uh)
Let's Go
(Yeah)
Long Beach, motherfucker
(The Weeklys, motherfucker)

Trapping at my homie house, watching his mama Cripwalk
Fantastic Four, it ain't a thing to make bricks talk
Run when that Jack Daniels cap twist-off
'Cause fucking with that J.D., I put you in a Kris Kross
Fuck a list, I'm a Sith Lord
The West without Crook is like the G Thang beat without the synth chord
Like Eazy-E without a '64, I know you feel me if you're in poverty, piss poor
Rob you for your Snow White, where is she at?
Rob you for your bread too, where that Sara Lee at?
Different kinda coke brothers financing my campaign
Niggas pulling out more polls than a Quinnipiac
Want it? You could get some
Hear them hollow tips come
Hundred round mag, that's the Diggy Doc kickdrum
Line you with a thot, giving you top
You'll get robbed by a bitch who been cocked more times than John Wick's gun
Grimey ass Eastsider
Got some Armenians that'll leave you in a meat grinder
You'll be looking like lasagna when police find you
Buried in a hole deep enough to reach China
Shootouts feeling them hollows burning you
You and your dawgs crawling over furniture
The burner so heavy, if Terry Crews tried to draw it, it cause a hernia
My neighbors in Suburbia learning that I'm a murderer
I wake up wide-eyed and bushy-tailed
And start killing rappers who only platinum 'cause pussy sells
Old heads still shooting, nigga, Bonzi Wells
I could tell you how a dead body smells
Nah, that ain't the best thing
I learned the lessons that death bring
Keep bouncing like bedsprings during a sex scene
Driving, busting nuts in my sleep, my nigga, wet dreams
You couldn't hang with these bars if you was Epstein
How'd I make it out the streets? Shit
The song I made with Akon explains it all, dream big
Now I'm throwing skyhooks over Christopher Wallace beats, Kareem Biggs
Rock with me, nigga, the king lives
As long as you live and breathe

Come here, nigga
Yeah, nigga
You made that list, nigga?
Nahahhhhh
Oh, it's hard to talk with a gun in your mouth, huh?
You the one that made that motherfucking list?
Oh, you can't talk, you sound like one of them mumble rappers now, huh?
Top 50, greatest of all time
You made that fucking list, nigga?
I told you

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?