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letra de shot me down - rnb.foemob

[intro]
(i was five nd’ he was six)
(we rode on horses made of sticks)
(will, what that is?)
(he wore black and i wore white)
(he would always win the fight)
-bang- -bang-
(he shot me down)
-bang- -bang-
(i hit the ground)
-bang- -bang-
(that awful sound)
bang
-bang- -bang-
xo think he all that

[chorus]
i gotta keep my head on, i been tryina keep my focus
i wish i didn’t need a gun my n-gga, i ain’t jokin’
its hard to hold the tears inside, i swear i get to chokin’
poppin’ percs nd’ sippin’ mud, my heart achin’ cause it feel broken

[verse 1]
talk to god cause hes my rock, like f-ck a boat; he keep me floatin’
tryina strike the rap game with my chance, like i then started foldin’
tried to k!ll myself, i keep my problems in then i got lonely
fightin’ for my freedom, fightin’ demons; feel like no one notice
the voices in my head keep on gettin louder nd’ louder
i’m nothin’, but a man; i count on god to give me power
drop my nuts nd’ never been a p-ssy; god been hatin’ cowards
i don’t lie nd’ i don’t steal nd’ i don’t hate, sh-t make folks sour
[chorus]
i gotta keep my head on, i been tryina keep my focus
i wish i didn’t need a gun my n-gga, i ain’t jokin’
its hard to hold the tears inside, i swear i get to chokin’
poppin’ percs nd’ sippin’ mud, my heart achin’ cause its been broken

[verse 2]
when i’m loadin’ on them drugs, i be vacant; i be straight flowin’
don’t play round with them slugs, they be bakin’; we leave sh-t open
i’m makin’ my own wave like boy for frank, this for my bortion
i be gamblin’ with my life like my life was casino tokens
i’m grindin’ onna mission, i’m locked in; i’m fully focused
i say my prayers to the lord, i don’t do none of that hopin’
i don’t know none of these n-ggas, don’t come around here be jokin’
i upped then bullets make you vanish n-gga, hocus pokus
this stick up thats on my back got me feelin’ like harry potter
i grew up by myself so the streets raised me like a father
you play? then go r-t-rded, i slam on; she likes this cartier
i’m slashin’ to the rim, matta fact; boy i feel like giannis
i feel like 34, but my g-lock hold thirty-five
you play then we on go, when we pop out? he won’t survive
i wanna get his ass, imma skin him; i want his hide
i pop out on that n-gga like dinner, we get him fried
i’m feelin’ like a winner, my denims? stuffed up with blues
they lookin’ for some evidence, police ain’t find no clues
i make sure that i wipe down all my bullets before i shoot
the clips was clean, the pistol clean? throw it away then move
[chorus]
i gotta keep my head on, i been tryina keep my focus
i wish i didn’t need a gun my n-gga, i ain’t jokin’
its hard to hold the tears inside, i swear i get to chokin’
poppin’ percs nd’ sippin’ mud, my heart achin’ cause its been broken

[outro]
(i was five nd’ he was six)
-heh-
(we rode on horses made of sticks)
real life talk boy
(you wore black and i wore white)
-bang- -bang- boy
(he would always win the fight)
-ff-heh-
-bang- -bang-
(he shot me down)
-bang- -bang-
(i hit the ground)
k!ll bill sh-t n-gga
-bang- -bang-
get a n-gga wacked
(that awful sound)
-bang- -bang-
i think he shot me..

- rnb foemob

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