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letra de shoot out - bloodhound q50

[intro: bloodhound q50]
mm-mm, mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm, mm-mm
long live my brother, he probably k!lled your b-tch-ass brother
haha, we finna walk this b-tch

[verse 1: bloodhound q50 & vonoff1700]
go, when i k!lled that n-gga, i was fresh as sh-t
amiri my denims, balenci’ my kicks
f-ck ig, i ain’t postin’ no pic
we four deep with dracs and switches
swing my door, n-ggas fallin’ and trippin’
belt to ass, we the reason they cliquin’
catch two more, i’m double digits, go
i don’t tote nothin’ less than a glock or drac’, that other sh-t be jammin’
you can’t label no rapper, b-tch, i’m still out here spinnin’
i clap sh-t up, better ask the trenches
i left eight dead, but one n-gga pendin’
switch on the back, tap once, it’s empty, go, go
high-speed chase, don’t wrap the v
f-ck lil tjay and munchie g
i ain’t duckin’ sh-t, ain’t no secret beef
same n-gga trollin’, now he r.i.p
i chased n-ggas down with my bare feet
come here, where you goin’? you ain’t no runnin’ from me
took a shot to the leg, i was out same week
my first day clear and i went up three
i’m a top spinner, n-ggas know i’m elite
caught three n-ggas on my 19c
his ass ain’t gang, he ain’t caught no b
it’s me and von in a srt
spin out west, then we spin over east
f-ck these n-ggas, i ain’t pushin’ no peace
n-ggas be b-tches, be duckin’ that beef, go (alright ,you know that)
[verse 2: vonoff1700]
when we pull up, we gon’ all bounce out on three (bounce)
we don’t shoot out cars, we park the v and get on feet (come here)
this a brand new arp, baby spark got it for free (took his ass)
we swung them doors, he tripped and fell, we left his dumb ass by a tree (dumbass)
i love my glasses, i be shootin’ sh-t from deep
me and bronem ride around spinnin’ off lil jeff in the jeep
i’m really f-cked up in my head, boy, i be shootin’ at my feet (grrah, grrah, grrah)
q50 say he got a goofy, take him down, that n-gga sweet (his goofy ass)
catch his ass tryna get fresh (dumbass), leave his dumb ass unique (his dumb ass)
say he had bread on my head and then he died the same week (his dead ass)
uh, backend a cluck, he need his perc’ or he gon’ tweak
i know the opps be mad as h-ll when they get clapped up by a geek
don’t take his j, that sh-t look cheap (cheap)
we put romain ass on a tee (his dead ass)
don’t come around without no b
i’m tryna slide, who got the key? (who got the key?)
‘fore i leave out, put on my ski (my ski)
12 hit the lights and we gon’ flee (gone)
aim at his mouth, shoot out his t–th (you know that)
we in the field, put on your cleats (b-tch)

[verse 3: bloodhound q50 & vonoff1700]
ayy, von, them n-ggas’ side on point
so when we bounce, we gotta creep
we treat his ass like a keyboard
we get on top and press delete
that n-gga sayin’ he lost his mind
man, i said that sh-t was weak
don’t get your ass on side this ride
’cause that’s how that b-tch get beat
ayy, von, you heard about lil’ bre?
the light skin one that got the cheek?
that b-tch do d-cks from west to east
man, h-ll yeah, that b-tch a eat
he dissed the gang he rest in peace
money on my head, shot me in my knee
man, i just found out where they be
you want the drac’ or the .223?

- bloodhound q50

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