Horseshoe Gang - Shoot Game lyrics

[Intro: Julius Luciano] I got an inoperable illness, you can't doctor it Got a degree in talkin' noise, poppin' sh**, Doctorate Got a struck match flow, hot sh**, Tobasco Guns give you the blues, I'm Armstrong, Satchmo Luci in this b**h, n***a, yikes (x4) [Verse 1: Julius Luciano] Luci in this b**h n***a, y'all n***as b**h n***as Adhere to the program, stick to the script n***a Y'all dudes inconsistent, every season you switch Coffee dudes change colors when cream's in the mix I'm finna get rid of you insects blockin' the way It's like pesticide when them choppers'll spray It'll literally get ugly, enemy get shot in the face The minute I pop in the place, I'm clockin' my pay I get P-A-Y, no L's, no time for the play I feel like a candle cuz I get chicks to blow me and I'm on top of my cake Yeah, I never wait for green, I always ran a light I control my will and fortune, no Vanna White f** your chain, I'll snatch it like the silencer on my hammer like My gun knows its right to remain silent, Miranda right Never touch my dough yo, I'm stingy and I ain't carin' Spit on Ozzy Osbourne's wife because I hate sharin' Yeah, I'm the best, swingin' wood baby, Hank Aaron I ain't got no kids, I never f** a b**h that ain't barren Wave pool sh**, yea your boy's flow is movin' you Leave you n***as missin', no corpse at your funeral Fire you at your job, I mean torch to your cubicle I'll be in your veins, no 4th Roman numeral [Hook: Julius Luciano] Shoot game n***a, my crew way iller Got a bad a** chick and you can't get her And I keep a .44, my blue flame spitta That's my Jerry West pistol, I shoot game n***a I'm a shoot game n***a, my crew way iller Got a bad a** b**h and you can't get her And I keep a .44, my blue flame spitta That's my Jerry West pistol, I shoot game n***a [Verse 2: Kenny] Yo, it's Kenny Siegel my n***a, dubs up And of course I'm high, so I'm what's up Might see me racin' in the Lam' like I'm on the LAM, push Or in your bushes in the A.M., ambush I'll spit a 16 if you don't think this sh**s mean You can sit opposite of my inf beam or you can lick my dick clean And I never beg but b**h please, I'm your worst nightmare, but your b**h dreams Stickin' that bride in her room, diggin' and drillin' inside of her womb Sippin' and poppin' a brew, feelin' like I'm at the tippity-top of the roof I'm high and fly, feelin' like I'm fixin' to fly to the moon If you ain't talkin' no loot, your words just sound like bippity-boppity boo I'll lay a n***a on his back like loose tramps Then put him in his trunk like new amps I train heavy everyday like this bootcamp You motherf**ers too light like deuce lamps Of course I'm always in the hood like food stamps Recordin' shockin' sh** like news cams Pissed off like I'm down to my last 2 grams And motherf** a pig, though that dude's ham I'm hard as a pillow at Barney Rubbles I'm hard enough to make metal look soft and supple I'm in love with my gun, me and my larkin' snuggle We talk and cuddle, she loud so her bark is muffled [Hook: Julius Luciano]