Gun Shot - Jarren Benton, Chris Rivers, Termanology

Maybe i should have killed 4- 5 hundred people, then i would have felt better

Then i would have felt like i really offered the society something

You know, if i wanted to kill somebody

I’d take this book and beat you to death with it, and i wouldn’t feel a thing

It would be just like walking to the drugstore

Yeah, burna by my side i’m Huey Newton in a wicked chair

Wrist frostbit, everywhere i go the bitch is there

Ice cold Benton Ligaments inside the fridge again

Told my mama «Fuck School, 'ima be a billionare»

My heart a ice box fur on my back, that’s white fox

Niggas hit the block, put crack inside they white socks

The shit that niggas do to get a buck or two, let a couple loose now they

pourin' out a couple brews

Dearly departed, i’m killing these artists

I don’t give a fuck about a plaque, they gon' feel me regardless

I need´that dumbbread, i’m so sick i might cut off a fucking nun’s head

I’m the future, bitch i have never had my palms red

I might throw gold at the bottom of my teeth

I’m a problem for you geeks

Never modest, i’m a beast

Parallel to hell, blauw niggas catch a pair of shells

Swing the iron at you niggas diddy with the kettlebell

[Hook

One shot, gun shot, three shot, four shot

Am i dead yet?

One time more

One shot, gun shot, three shot, four shot

Leave it dead on the floor

One shot, gun shot, three shot, four shot

Am i dead yet

One time more

One shot, gun shot, three shot, four shot

Leave it dead on the floor

Drugs, liqour, guns, drugs, liqour, guns

Pull a razor out my gums liqour on my tongue

I sniff gunpowder and i eat metal bullets

Stomp you to death infront of the pigs and sell the footage

Real savage with a still ratchet

Fuck you in the ass with a gun, make you a real faggot

Let’s get these pills crackin', let’s make these mils' matchin'

Houses and cars under the stars cause we been slackin'

I’m so relaxed knowing how to soak a match

You want me on your tracks then i’m gonna overtax

Snap a fast cause' i use a packets crack

I ain’t got no mercy no mo' cause they ain’t got my back

Pussy, i’m Drizzy on back to back, Nas on Ether or Biggie on Life after Death

I call on my goons like «Who we slapping next?»

I have em' blowing in the metal, and no it ain’t the clarinet

[Hook

One shot, gun shot, three shot, four shot

Am i dead yet?

One time more

One shot, gun shot, three shot, four shot

Leave it dead on the floor

One shot, gun shot, three shot, four shot

Am i dead yet

One time more

One shot, gun shot, three shot, four shot

Leave it dead on the floor

Heater by my side, i can feel the cold

Open up the oven, got a sheet of dough

Tell you keep it blunt

If you see the dough, run you mouth until it’s time stand to see it, though

Tell you never grow, bitch i see the dough

Humble but i rumble like Muhammed Ali in the jungle, with these demons with

George Foreman

I’m George Foreman when the Mike titans like Mike Tyson

Tell my sugar ray is gonna pinch right through the darkness, this is life,

fight it

Think outside the box, pack it up like you got lots of it

Fell in love with thots expose like they got cardigans

I was getting carted, hopping trains cause' i have to measure

Drive got me a car, for insurance i got half a Gecko

Racketball been back and forth with paddles on and adderals

Focus on this boat

Cause' there is big fish in the ocean that came from little ponds

Said i feel it never happened, lord it’s

[Hook

One shot, gun shot, three shot, four shot

Am i dead yet?

One time more

One shot, gun shot, three shot, four shot

Leave it dead on the floor

One shot, gun shot, three shot, four shot

Am i dead yet

One time more

One shot, gun shot, three shot, four shot

Leave it dead on the floor