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letra de shootout (snippet demo) - robb bank$

shootout (snippet demo) lyrics
[intro]
(i’m working on dying)
roll the blunt, james, please, bruh
thank you, my brother
you dig? greenhearted
woo, woo, woo
let’s get it
woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo
yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh
woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo
uh, uh, uh, uh, spread my wings
uh, uh, uh, uh, get my lane
yeah, that’s what it is, n-gga
uh, uh, uh, uh, uh
for real, okay

[chorus: robb bank$]
opp on sight, shoot a n-gga (yeah)
cops outside, shootin’ n-ggas (brr, brr)
baby momma outside, shoot a n-gga (brr)
why you walkin’ with your chop? shoot a n-gga (brr, brr)
if you on trial, shoot a n-gga (brr, brr)
all my n-ggas doin’ time, shoot a n-gga (brr)
see a b-tch you don’t like, shoot a n-gga (yeah)
got two guns on me like tomb raider (yeah)
[post-chorus: robb bank$]
i’ma do the benz, no ‘rari (rah, yeah, yeah)
i’ma do the benz, no ‘rari (rah, yeah, yeah)
i’ma do the benz, no ‘rari (rah, rah)
i’ma do the benz, no ‘rari (fact, yeah, yeah)
yeah, 2phoneshawty green hearted (ya, digg)
green bеam, i’ma hit my target (bow)
got a hundred bands in my pockets
and i got your b-tch on molly (rah, rah, rah)

[verse 1: robb bank$]
and i got your b-tch off molly (facts, yuh)
top notch spill, no stylist (yuh)
got a hundrеd round drum my closet (yuh)
got the gucci smellin’ like gunpowder (yuh, yuh, yuh)
baby, the ice don’t get much louder (sset)
f-ck the priest, don’t need no guidance (brr)
bet your girlfriend drained my bladder (woo)
24k golden showers
got a b-tch to text me, you would think it’s ripley’s
believe it or not, she said she finna f-ck the whole team
i don’t really give a f-ck for p-ssy, money, or lean
you know i love confrontation, tell them drop the addy

[chorus: robb bank$]
opp on sight, shoot a n-gga (yeah)
cops outside, shootin’ n-ggas (brr, brr)
baby momma outside, shoot a n-gga (brr)
why you walkin’ with your chop? shoot a n-gga (brr, brr)
if you on trial, shoot a n-gga (brr, brr)
all my n-ggas doin’ time, shoot a n-gga (brr)
see a b-tch you don’t like, shoot a n-gga (yeah)
got two guns on me like tomb raider (yeah)
[post-chorus: robb bank$]
i’ma do the benz, no ‘rari (rah, yeah, yeah)
i’ma do the benz, no ‘rari (rah, yeah, yeah)
i’ma do the benz, no ‘rari (rah, rah)
i’ma do the benz, no ‘rari (fact, yeah, yeah)
yeah, 2phoneshawty green hearted (ya, digg)
green beam, i’ma hit my target (bow)
got a hundred bands in my pockets
and i got your b-tch on molly (rah, rah, rah)

[chorus 2: lil uzi vert]
yeah, yeah, yeah
i ain’t even gotta say nothing
pull up in the whip, push b-ttons
rolls-royce big, it’s a hummer (vroom)
man, i hope you don’t love her
that girl that you try pop out with, man, i had that b-tch last summer
girl like, left eye, aye, uh
chopper like t.i, aye, uh
handle my beehive
b-tch, i got three eyes (yeah, what?)
slatt, that’s a beehive
green like key lime
fn got three sights (slatt)
mini chopper, that’s a p90
[bridge: lil uzi vert & robb bank$]
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
yeah, yeah (yeah), yeah, yeah (yeah)
sset, sset, sset, sset (yeah, yeah)
yeah, yeah, let’s get it, let’s get it (falcionia, lil uzi)

[verse 2: lil uzi vert]
pop that perk, that 3 to the 30-inch on my smith and rims
i can’t see no hater diamond cartier on my lens
i turn to darth vader, matte-black, yeah, that’s on my benz
inside red, lightsaber, f-cked your b-tch like once again
smoke out the pound, you smokin’ out the quarter still, got a b-tch up in lauderdale
i just put my d-ck up right in your daughter still
my diamonds they water still (water)
had to leave ’em b-tches sparklin’, sparklin’ still
’cause i paid a half a mil’
no, no, no, you don’t get no cash for real
i just spent half a reel

[verse 3: lil uzi vert]
smoke gas, b-tch, better lung it
make a b-tch shake, crumpin’
hit it from the back, hump it
if it get to, oop, n-gga, you better dunk it (dunk it)
pass it, brand new ‘rari, won’t crash it (skrr)
my new b-tch she nasty
suck on my d-ck ’til her lips get ashy (let’s get it)
hold on, slowly, uh, faster
cut off my hair on one side
told that b-tch i feel like gatsby
i’m the one always in charge
i cannot sit in the back seat
brought that b-tch right to my yard
told that b-tch please do not cap me
i had to pull out my rar’
hit a home run like a-rod
made that b-tch say, “oh my god”
then i made that b-tch get tired
yeah the d-ck made that b-tch cry
she gave me neck like a tie
yeah

- robb bank

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