Skip to content

All Out

Shuko
Popularity ยท Low
๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ง English ยท Original

YouTube

Searching YouTube...

Lyrics

"Quit talking, it's over" "Rap 'bout to destroy" "I draw first blood, be the first to set it off" "I'm going all out, you know moves, I never fake" You could bring your whole army, nigga, in they war suits They be left dead, laying there, in they war boots If you want it you can get it, it's nothing to see you with it So don't front on me or play me too close, fam Cause I'm kicking in doors, ain't knocking no more I done walked my dog shit and crawled in my Timberlands Look, I want them dollars man, let me holla at you fam And please don't reach shit, let me see them fucking hands Tell you who the fuck I am, stay in street attire Them diamonds, guns, but never no wire man I'm spitting that fire man, hotter than frying pans Hope you fucking suckers get the pictures like diagrams Nigga check the technique, the way I make the Tec speak BONG BONG BONG, three shots and you dead meat Cause see G, this what I'm about man Run up in your house, put the gun up to your spouse Ask you where the safe is, that minute you stutter Word to the mother I'mma turn the gun on ya Then give you the biz, cause it is what it is Man I'll body something quick, throw it in the ditch Shit, you don't want it with me, kid "What goes up must come down" "So duck when you hear that sound" "Get swallowed by the hollow rounds" "It's been a week and he ain't been found" "What goes up must come down" Brand new with it, we get it before you get it And he hit it before you hit it Shit, what the fuck they thought, I got caught with the dope Threw it out before the judge and the court Caught wind of it, get budgets, my pen does it And my niggas in the pen love it Shit, we been having them buzzin' I got niggas that don't even know me like that's my blood cousin Call 'em up, all you other niggas follow us Flow like that Dom Perignon shit bottled up Bars up, breaking the bank, blue Yank hat Dodger hat, providing the suit, niggas follow that Matter of fact, fuck all that CLACK CLACK CLACK, lay him flat on his back, yeah that Word to my nigga Mitch, slick Critical thinking is quick, mixed with the beats and the flow sick Pick of the litter, don't be bitter when we come through We supposed to, test to roast you Flow like who? Nobody So somebody better have all our money before we crash the party