Frost (West Coast) - One Shot lyrics

Yeah dog i ain't lying man One shot..uh Sometimes it's all you get though man One shot..uh..yeah [Chorus] You only have one shot its fatal All your chips on the table A baby boy in the cradle We'll keep you well enable Keep your family stable Stay up and stay the f** out of jail ??? On your on label Kick back and smoke Nothin but the KO World famous, business on pay roll Pimped out we just lay low [Verse 1] When i was young i did pay no I never listen to no say so I always bubble my centino Always keep it on the serio Crazy a** vato Spittin' nothin but veneno On a whole nother level ya mero Where it's a brown badboy in romero It's a whole nother hueco I'm dealin' with Gotta home in the ghetto where I'm livin' in If it's on then it's on Remember me taking out you s**as Especially if it's the enemy If you catch me on my worst day You'll be needing first-aid Three days later your lookin' ? Close casket in the valley of a**a**ins When your quick to catch your last kiss Get a hit with a desas i got this rap sh** mastered Same book new chapter Bring out the ghetto bastas to sign on With the Latin rap icon It's my turn so high my eyes burn Urnin for what I'm earnin' I rip it to god's ? Chorus [Verse 2] Look at the gangsta b**h My gangsta ride my gangsta rag My gangsta night my gangsta life A G model Holdin' the microphone like a bottle With only a minute until tomorrow ? guns rapping' to the kick in the drum Bangin' with the click to tha one Grease, slugs, hoes, scrubs, shows, clubs, drinks, and d** Riding' like a ? in the bloods I put my bud in the buck I took a blood to the dome With my mind on my money And my hands on my phone alone Ridin'i'm gone you know I'm drunk and I'm blown b**h i sh** on your motherf**ing song You gettin' me wrong I'm to grown for gangs cadge And AK with ? Eating heavy like every day Best be ready to play Spray, ready da rage Stained bullets on ? So what cha gotta say? Chorus Hey no eyes closed allowed on the Eastside G's rides on 24/7 And G rides gonna bubble to ghetto vest You never know Tech 9's to the chest watch bullets blow I roll with the 40 holdin' and rollin' another one In the lowered impala Gun shots to follow Hallow tips and bottles See arrest to get wet we smoke out On them bouncin' on half an ounce And bangin' on them Affiliated with the shaved heads We spray led You better offer is trying to play dead Or brained dead All you vatos that wanna be rappers I'm laughing at chu you Like your callin' your shots Your block is talkin' bad about chu Talkin sh** but you down and you AIN'T BROWN! You ain't even f**in' with my town Bustin' out with the los on the Glock You catch him one shot Down f** up and get dropped Chorse 2x Yeaaaaahhhh Come on Pi...pimp out and just lay low Haha Celeb 2000 Hehehaha That was then, this is now Part 2