TFE Sheedo - 22 Shots (feat. Vs Blackus)

I'm really 'bout that life, I ain't with none of that capping
Let a nigga step wrong, bet I throw away this rapping
Standing ovation on he block, the way this fucking glock clapping
Any one of us could slide, all my niggas 'bout that action
Nightmare on Elm Street, a lot of booming, no jamming
I get magic in this stick, bet these chopper shots curse you
Me and Sheedo in the stolo and we sliding on that curfew
He done said the wrong thing, now he laying up in Lakeview
Tom and Jerry your block, make these chopper shots chase you
Better carry your Glock 'cause my niggas down to take you

Shots take you underground, like the Undertaker
Shaking up the scene like a fucking salt shaker
Trying to do this rap shit, trying to stack up on some paper
And Me and Blackus gon' ball out, like we on the Lakers
Never stand down from no man, I can't let no nigga take me
Glock 200 degrees, if he move wrong, I gon' bake something
Too real, can't fake nothing
Stop capping bitch, 'cause I know you ain't gon' break nothing
It's a movie when I see you, you would think I work for Fusion
Never cared what you think, fuck you and your conclusion
Niggas say I jokey but when he see me, he never do nothing
And my nigga ready to crash out for me but he don't do stunting
And I'll pop off on nigga like I is a fucking loose button
Think I name the shots Jack, how these have your heart jumping
Captain of the beef 'cause the smoke, yeah, it gon' crunch him
I thought Metro was in the place, how we have the place booming
You could play tough for the hoes, but I ain't the one you fooling

Head hunter, breaking niggas block like a monster
Creep up on a nigga like imposter
Shots punching up he shit like a boxer
Flashbacks from all them bodies we done conquer
22 shots, burst that boy shit on the pavement
Leave that little boy lifeless, where the pastor couldn't save him
Got they whole block ducking, when they hear them shots engaging
22 shots, out this motherfucking Glock, make a nigga diddy bop
Flip him out his flip-flops, flip that boy top open like a fucking laptop

Think I doing landscaping, posted with a big chop
Ain't get no time for these jokers, even with a wrist watch
And if they sleeping, tell them wake up 'cause we heading to the top
Make a mess when we slide, even though we get some mops
Like a barber with the .45, taking too much off the top
In a picture with the opps, then you know you getting cropped
In he bushes, dead sly, like a motherfucking fox
Leave my foot in he face, like I putting on some Crocs'
And I good anywhere, I ain't tripping 'bout no opps
'Cause them niggas only mouthing, they ain't making bodies drop
Plenty smoke behind my brothers like I coming out the village
And I know you is a joker, but you put on a fake image
And y'all know just how it go, straight top figure business
Gang shit

Written by:
Joshua Civil, Rasheed Dewar

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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