lirik lagu 600breezy - who shot ya
[intro]
what, what, 6-o breez-o, n-gg-, you know how i’m comin’ man on cartel sh-t, n-gg-
what, sick of n-gg-s, man
[verse 1]
look, to death, the last real n-gg- left
these n-gg-s foul sworn i’m handin’ out tecs
pullin’ grounds with the crips and the jects
600gs, and i ain’t worried about sh-t i got my gun on me
bet i make it home to that daughter and that son i feed
n-gg-s hatin’ on me, i got that quick on me
glock squeeze while you chop cheese from this bacon, homie
[verse 2]
i walked around with a couple gs, we swarm down on n-gg-s like some k!ller bees
i still ride around with tommys and semis, got a problem tell them n-gg-s get wit me
couple homies that are lookin’ so different
they the same but they loyalty missin’
cuz’ i rap n-gg-s think that i’m slippin’
bullets hot like your grandmother’s kitchen on thanksgiving and she just cooked some chitlins and i’m the mic for this team
b-tch i’m definitely pimpin’, n-gg-
[verse 3]
i heard some n-gg-s say my name in they raps like they ain’t heard bout’ them n-gg-s got clapped
quickest way to get your stupid -ss wacked
glock-23s, fns, semis, and macs, yeah i’m into all that
totin’ pistols since way back, way back, burn your du-rag to a wave cap
we already known for shootin’ up the place
f-ckin’ with breez-o it ain’t safe
[verse 4]
these n-gg-s so fake, i don’t do 8s, 50 shots, red tape, countin’ guap getting caked, pop sh-t, hop gates, free the guys, f-ck the jakes, ridin’ around feeling great wit your b-tch eatin’ steak
flexing hard, b-mpin’ drake, for f-cking christ’s sake n-gg-s get off my d-ck—
on some hockey player sh-t slidin’ around with them sticks
who shot ya?
it was me, n-gg-, i’m with the beef, n-gg-, come down your block with the swiffer and i sweep n-gg-s
[verse 5]
i got hoes from atlanta to houston
your main b-tch out here stealin’ and boostin’, roll your own woods, b-tch, i be boofin’— already i’m just boolin and coolin’
100 shots if we gotta start shootin
go against me, dumby, you stupid
drop-top when i’m feelin’ recouprished
i’m that n-gg-, but they already knew this
want war ain’t nothing start shootin, n-gg-
p-ssy, what’s crackin’?
what’s happening?
pistol sang like tony braxton, i ain’t jackin, never lackin
b-tch, we bout that action, coach of the team call me bill jackson
6 rings, buzzer beaters, early morning traffic
long live la and free numba9
k!ll a motherf-cker whisperin about mine, (and i’m), and i’m chiraq’s finest, please rewind this, 600’s behind this
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