lirik lagu d-block – shoot a nigga
shoot a n~gga lyrics
[verse 1: bucky]
ayo shoot a n~gga in his mouth f~ck the rapping
glock with the double action, get to bucking and clapping
f~ck with buck it’s gon’ happen, i ain’t bluffing or [?]
get to ducking and dashing, ’cause ain’t no running [?]
the streets have turned me into a motherf~cking assasin
i run up in your crib for the [?] tuck in your stashing
up in your cabinets, and i’m flipping over your coach, i’m gripping your ?c?
n~gga hand over them out since i’m going in for the k!ll
aim at your throat or your grill, i’m loaded with steel
go ‘head, provoke me, i will
have your block look similar to a scene from private ryan
all you see is n~ggas dying, choppers and [?] flying
[verse 2: st.raw]
straw [?] from my name n~gga, doing my thang n~gga
connects still importing the kane n~gga
o.t. somewhere [?] n~gga, hustling to gain n~gga
been to the struggle and pain n~gga
all black tahoe, switching the lanes n~gga
ryde or die motto, i gеt what i can n~gga
grade a coke ’bout as white as thе sand n~gga
got it for your kilos, ounces and grams n~ggas
s~t [?] one in the chain n~gga
i don’t mean cool when i say you can hang n~gga
snitching ain’t part of the game n~gga
bodies i deem missing part of their brains n~gga, it’s arliss
[chorus: bucky (st.raw)]
(shoot a n~gga)
if it come out his face wrong
(shoot a n~gga!)
right in his face with the [?]
(shoot a n~gga!)
with slugs the size of acorns
to come to his wake
dressed in black with the gauge drawn
shoot a n~gga!
(if it come out his face wrong)
shoot a n~gga!
(in his face with the [?])
shoot a n~gga!
(slugs the size of acorns
to show up at his wake
dressed in black with the gauge drawn)
[verse 3: bully]
shoot a n~gga!
king of new york, get it popped like arty clay
all about a penny dog, you can learn the harder way
don’t say sh~t, don’t believe me, let the llama spray
bully hit n~ggas close range or a mile away
?dirty ol’? six shot shooter
stay with them big toys, call them block moves
good with the [?], better with the ruger
i’m all about my money dog, let that not fool ya
uh, i live what i speak, you can put my word on it
only thing i want [?]
go hard every track, always spit superb on it
[?] bully got the birds on it
[verse 4: styles p]
if the money ain’t comin in lumpsums
i swear to god get your t~~th and gums ready for dum dums
whoever think they the king, come f~ck with the spade ace
always busting a clip, leave with a sprayed face
d~block shooter, neck first head next
ain’t finish the job, k!ll you during bedrest
red s550, real [?], move real slow
it’s big guns in the headrest
let a bullet rip in your scalp, let you die, p~ss in your mouth
see what the riff is about
pick a straw i got a bully to buck you
or a n~gga that came home from 20 in and he ready to f~ck you
boss, at the desk with the siamese cats
k!ll you uncut [?] from the chinese cats
ghost, no telling where you find me at
behind the trigger of some sh~t that get your mind pushed back
[chorus: bucky (st.raw)]
(shoot a n~gga)
if it come out his face wrong
(shoot a n~gga!)
right in his face with the [?]
(shoot a n~gga!)
with slugs the size of acorns
to come to his wake
dressed in black with the gauge drawn
shoot a n~gga!
(if it come out his face wrong)
shoot a n~gga!
(in his face with the [?])
shoot a n~gga!
(slugs the size of acorns
to show up at his wake
dressed in black with the gauge drawn)
shoot a n~gga!
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