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letra de murda season - teejay3k

[verse 1: teejay3k & shootergang kony]
f-ck the ps i brought the gang in this b-tch
you a opp you can’t hang in this b-tch
i can’t hit her in the house then i take her to the back seat
d-ck doing damage got her running like a track-meet
shawty wanna f-ck on a dawn
she like all these tats on my arms
i gotta keep a .40 cause they know i’m the one
put a n-gga in the plastic with a choppa send him above
when i’m done you hear a fooley when we spinning on my son
we got drums up n-ggas wanted smoke without the lungs
he got gleeky for the law
i still strip him for that gun i make him run
ain’t no time to get your pistol out the trunk
all your n-ggas leakin all my partners on the run
how you call it beefin but when you see me you on run
f-ck the ps b-tch it’s beef i want everybody deceased
send my shooter your block it get surgical by me
took them golds out my mouth and put them diamonds in my t–th
when that pack touchdown get it gone in a week
b-tch my mama raised a boss i ain’t goin’ for defeat
and that b-tch ain’t your b-tch boy she owned by the streets
got my bands in my pocket on exceder al
got these freak b-tches tagging on my ethical
i brought that drum dummy thought that it was h-lluva
that n-gga thought he had a friend until we set him up
old n-ggas talking tell them go and put their medals up
no telling us mozzy chain looking like the yellow bus
old park baby he ain’t knowin’ that it’s h-ll of us
boy don’t even shoot em if we k!ll him they gon’ tell on us
[chorus: teejay3k & shootergang kony]
it’s that season, murder season
give me a reason just to call up them demons
i been fiendin’, brought my beam in
pockets peter griffin left the show and pulled up cleveland
little freak b-tches wanna f-ck me on the weekend
b-tch i’m from the trenches say you love when i’m leaving
they told me, “stay up out that water” b-tch i dove in the deep end
run up me choppa get to singing like the weekend

[verse 2: shootergang kony & teejay3k]
run up on me choppa leave a n-gga on his back
hit the wrong n-gga still add him to my stash
try to give a shooter he shot first then i relapsed
don’t need to tell you where i’m at i’m at the murders at the trap
do my dougie on that broke b-tch
i don’t want no kiss
she tried to take my condom off i almost socked her in the lip
pocket full of blues i got confused i ain’t a crip
me and teejay in this b-tch you better ask if you can kick
i was really road running yeah my shoes scuffed up
don’t give a f-ck about your man don’t get lil dude f-cked up
might hit up king ralph to get my jewels bussed up
he don’t see it i got on me got my tool tucked up
b-tch i’m k got a pocket full of dead guys
high as h-ll you can tell by my red eyes
pop a pill smoking meds get me through the pain
get to tweaking go to shooting like the shooter game
[chorus: teejay3k & shootergang kony]
it’s that season, murder season
give me a reason just to call up them demons
i been fiendin’, brought my beam in
pockets peter griffin left the show and pulled up cleveland
little freak b-tches wanna f-ck me on the weekend
b-tch i’m from the trenches say you love when i’m leaving
they told me, “stay up out that water” b-tch i dove in the deep end
run up me choppa get to singing like the weekend

- teejay3k

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