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letra de gun - lil squeaky

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[chorus: lil squeaky]
look at that gun, shootin’ that gun
look at that gun, i’m number one
look at that gun, cookin’ up some
lookin’ for fun, lil’ b-tch, i’m the one
look at that gun, shootin’ that gun
look at that gun, i’m number one
look at that gun, look at yo’ mom
you lookin’ real dumb, lil’ b-tch, i’m the one

[verse 1: lil squeaky]
my boy came with the bust down watch
27 thousand a day, oh my gosh
only citadel of the nation do a show in omaha
ain’t harry truman but i still drop bombs
i’m makin’ bangs for real, i do the dance for real
you should break up with your mans for real
you know i am a big deal
you know my bank like the wheel of fortune
jump on a porsche, then f-ck like a horse
then jump off the porch and pay me of course
my hair type is porsche, yo’ hair is real thin like yo’ d-ck
all my diamonds are watch, all yo’ diamonds are pink
i’ma tell her i like king james
that b-tch a supеr freak, call me rick james
my fit is supеr sick and yo’ fit lame
each time i f-ck on yo’ b-tch with my wrist sag
b-tch, stand up (stand up), remember to pull yo’ pants up
you know i’m about to smash real fast, do the dash
and i fly first class, throwing cash out
[chorus: lil squeaky]
look at that gun, shootin’ that gun
look at that gun, i’m number one
look at that gun, cookin’ up some
lookin’ for fun, lil’ b-tch, i’m the one
look at that gun, shootin’ that gun
look at that gun, i’m number one
look at that gun, look at yo’ mom
you lookin’ real dumb, lil’ b-tch, i’m the one

[verse 2: tending bike]
you hoes need to calm down, okay
i’m the king of the wave, i got pounds of heat
i put this sh-t on my grave, b-tch, drop a beat
i just made 20k comin’ off of it
i got the key, b-tch, i ain’t gon’ stop
got your b-tch sucking d-ck like an apple watch
gotta clean ya ass up for that trashy talk (phone call)
dunk on these lames, b-tch pass the rock
give me blocks, turn yo’ b-tches into applesauce
stomp through yo’ hood, leave an aftershock
got the game on my side, keep the straps in glass
you be cappin’, but really, your facts are false
i just pull up like curry, no basketball
from the north, man, you b-tches ain’t a challenge
hit a strip with them hoes, make a b-tch lose his balance
hardest artist in my city, payin’ for me to bail out
j-o-b, that’s my team, yo’ b-tch, front and center of dallas
he’s a joke and you already know, we gon’ wipe his nose
tell them folks that we up in port, you don’t want the smoke sellin’ dope, i got pills and coke
say i won’t spread that choppin’ tote, p-ssy with no vote
[chorus: lil squeaky]
look at that gun, shootin’ that gun
look at that gun, i’m number one
look at that gun, cookin’ up some
lookin’ for fun, lil’ b-tch, i’m the one
look at that gun, shootin’ that gun
look at that gun, i’m number one
look at that gun, look at yo’ mom
you lookin’ real dumb, lil’ b-tch, i’m the one

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