lirik lagu styles p - shoot niggas
(feat. raw buck)
[intro: styles p]
yeah! f-ck n-gg-z!
grease whattup? vacant lot
i’m a expose these b-tches!
you don’t like me set it!
[styles p:]
this ain’t for the radio, nor for the video
this is for the n-gg- with his banger by his sh-tter hole
comin out the box crazy bear cause his sh-t is swole
ready to roll, no holds barred
gettin amped up, just lookin at his old scars
yeah, you know it’s on when the real n-gg- hatin you
no sleep, think about, the steel penetratin you
he the type to break the blade off in you
f-ck a cage when you know that it’s a cage up in you
what? kinda hard to not, go on a murder spree
paintin n-gg-z burgundy, put ’em to surgery
go kill they family like the sh-t was a urgency
s.p. is back, call the state of emergency
n-gg- get the n-g-o’s, sh-t you bend in your rolls
the men in your holes, all of my foes
all you smell is gunpowder then the scent of a rose, what!
[chorus: styles p]
shoot n-gg-z, cut n-gg-z, f-ck n-gg-z, what n-gg-z
b-tt n-gg-z really shouldn’t bop, you strut n-gg-z
firearm touch n-gg-z, light him like a dutch n-gg-
stop, look at your watch, you know that time’s up n-gg-
[raw buck:]
f-ck all these n-gg-z, let ’em die slow
pistol-whip somethin ’til you break the raw{? } snow
shoot a n-gg- throat out, hawk him in his eyeball
let that n-gg- burn for tryin to run through this firewall
new world order, raw buck, s.p.
twin tec ninas leave him wetter than a jet ski
i’m the rawest rookie, fire me where the vest be
i got a awkward offense, but i got the best d
greatest man alive, no i’m not e.s.t.
hoppin out the nestle crunch, color s.e.
nod to the anthem, i’m a ride with the phantom
whether we in the f-ckin who-ride or a phantom
real n-gg-z to feel it, fake n-gg-z’ll fear it
i been with the real and i break fake n-gg-z spirits
all bear witness the truth n-gg-
i got no remorse, and i never been hesitant to shoot n-gg-
[chorus]
[styles p:]
trust me, you don’t really know who you f-ckin with
the gun is called d-ck, won’t you go ahead and suck it b-tch
e’rybody fly, actin like a f-ckin b-tch
if you ask me then e’rybody’s a f-ckin trick
let me ease up, these n-gg-z ain’t g’d up
they more like e’d up, once that i re’d up
shoot him in his face, while he rollin his weed up
you rap with security, you p-ssy
if you sell crack with authority you p-ssy
n-gg- can’t run a block cause them n-gg-z’ll run over you
probably wouldn’t jump, if they threw a gun over you
you ain’t built for what you talkin about
you unworthy, oughta get hawked in your mouth
i got a white boyfriend that woulda called you a poser
got a n-gg- in jail that woulda made you a dosier
you a wack–ss rapper n-gg-, f-ck it it’s over
[chorus]
[outro: styles p]
yeah, you know who the f-ck it is
i got a story to tell
if you don’t know it find out about it, b-tch!
n-body eats no more, hardest out point blank period
you don’t believe me send all the motherf-ckers at once
yeah! woof!
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