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letra de who shoot ya - xxxtentacion

[intro: xxxtentacion]
rest in peace
i’m ’bout to body a n-gga
illuminati a n-gga
uh, what
okay

[verse 1: xxxtentacion]
f-cking monster with a tec, boy, i aim for your neck (yea-)
had your brother’ mother wet, ’cause she know i’m the best, i’m sick (y’all feel like that?)
rap so sinister, murder your local minister (y’all feel like that?)
lyrics bitter as vinegar, spittin’ in your perimeter
heard you straight as a cylinder, so i can’t f-cks wit’ you
all my n-ggas is gang bangers and ditch diggers
heard we was bumpin’, so you had to bring your clique with ya’
so you know i had to put a bullet in ’bout six n-ggas (yeah)
f-ck n-ggas, they running their triathlon
catch me gettin’ sloppy wit’ a b-tch that look like asher roth (yeah)
and i ain’t playin’ games like zombies, b-tch, i’m getting trains
runnin’ trains and b-tches k!lling snitches in an aeroplane
and i’m a menace, see more mouths than a dentist
i’m k!lling till i’m replenished, you n-ggas don’t know the half of it
half-ass rappers talking sh-t, check the time
turn around and see my n-gga’s wit’ me totin’ .49’s
and know they mad ’cause i ain’t really stuntin’ sh-t
i hate the b-tch and have my other wife who playing wit’ my d-ck (y’all feel like that?)
swallow spitting, she swallow spitting, she swallow spitting
said this since beginning, i’m just beginning, intend on winning
[interlude: xxxtentacion]
yo, hahahaha

[verse 2: xxxtentacion]
i’m f-ckin’ icy, where my cool pack?
give me a kool-aid, and ’bout eight racks
i could body any n-gga on a eight-track
maybe ’bout eight-mile, f-ck your style, n-gga
i’ma be wildin’, i’ma be stylin’
’til a motherf-cker die in a ground, eight feet under
swear to god, i’ll be hot as thunder
motherf-cker, i’m the sh-t, triple six
f-ck a b-tch, i’m the sh-t, never that
never rat, body bag, rag, hmm, that
bag, hmm, haha, back again
get a brown bag for my n-ggas in a brown jag, f-ck that
lu- lucifer
where the ruger that’ll blow right through you?
swear to god, i’m the sh-t, triple six, f-ck your b-tch
black benz in the pen, f-ck your paper, elevator
tell the waiter, i’ll be elevated
motherf-cker so high that i can touch the sky
i’m in outer sp-ce and my house be vacant
i’ll be trappin’ so the homies can make it
and i do it so the homies keep takin’
’cause the streets ain’t nothing easy, be on your grinder
poked him in his eye and i gave that boy a shiner
but it’s simple, the n-gga say you know it all, pop an adderall
chilling, ’til i’m dead, n-gga
f-ck your head n-gga
youngblood, triple six

- xxxtentacion

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