YNBJAY24 - BULLETS

He keep on talking, bet you see them bullets flying, people dying, mommas crying, these
females, they be lying
Man, that lil' boy ain't nothing, test my gang and they get wild
My evil twin he'll take your face off, you crack a smile
Ayy, my crew a pop him like a pill and have him tweaking
Man, all that talking put a hole up in his stomach, have him leaking
We shot his eye, now he blind, told him ain't no more seeing
My big bro will beat you up and have you dizzy like you drinking
I got my heater, we shot his mouth, his teeth hurt
That boy small like Peter, we blow him up like a creeper
That shorty said she want me, told her I don't even see her
And I'ma keep on stepping on these necks until my feet hurt
People knocking at the door, I won't answer
I've been counting so much money, that my hands hurt
You ain't with it, you don't wanna test my gangsters
Them bullets hit him, made him turn into a dancer
People knocking at my door, I won't answer
I've been counting so much money, that my hands hurt
You ain't with it, you don't wanna test my gangsters
Them bullets hit him, made him turn into a dancer
He think he smart, but don't know where to even hit him
We running around, if we spot him, man, you know we gotta get him
Them tools on the side, we catch a opp, man, we gon' drill him
He said it's beef he just like tea, man, you know we had to spill him
Want smoke, bet my mans'll get you lacedThem 223's, them 556's, bet they put you in your place, just like the tweet on the net
You talking stuff, you get erased
Like a tattoo on the shoulder, I bet the Glock could get him traced
I'm coming back like I never even left
You know this Glock like the whistle, and I'm just like the ref
You know I'm balling on the beat like I'm Curry, call me Steph
Man, I be cooking up with the bars just like a chef
People knocking at the door, I won't answer
I've been counting so much money that my hands hurt
You ain't with it, you don't wanna test my gangsters
Them bullets hit him, made him turn into a dancer
People knocking at my door, I won't answer
I've been counting so much money that my hands hurt
You ain't with it, you don't wanna test my gangsters
Them bullets hit him, made him turn into a dancer
People knocking at my door, I don't answer
I've been counting so much money that my hands hurt
You ain't with it, you don't wanna test my gangsters
Them bullets hit him, made him turn into a dancer
Ha

Written by:
James Beckom

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find