Paraphernalia (feat. Torro)
CallMeShotti
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Ah Ah My dog a shooter, I can't get his ass to chill So I just tell him keep his head up in that wheel And shoot for 30 on them drills Traumatized by them times in the field Was doing pad drills Brodie hit a head every drill They say he mad skilled Yeah, he got mad skills Yeah, he got mad kills Fighting for his soul Popping perkies like they Advils Like they Advils All we know is death, death to the opps Never had a ref but them techs never stopped I can't tell if this bitch wanting sex or a drop Beams on the FNs, and switches on the Glocks All we know is death, death to the opps Never had a ref but them techs never stopped I can't tell if this bitch wanting sex or a drop Beams on the FNs, and switches on the Glocks Beams on the FNs, and switches on the Glocks, Ugh Ahh, it's a cold city Paraphernalia on my side like it's sewn in me Know they wanna see me die like the old fifty And I can't let these niggas cheat me out my spot Yeah that bitch a dime but I treat her like she not Yeah this shit a nine but it keep like thirty shots These titties double D but I don't keep them in the bra Bitch I keep them in the Glock We spinning every day We caught em on that corner, bullets hit from every way Yeah, bullets hit from every way I call lil Brodie, Kevin, he put seven in your face Yeah Ahh My dog a shooter, I can't get his ass to chill So I just tell him keep his head up in that wheel And shoot for thirty on them drills, yeah Beams on the FNs My shooter beat a body, Said he tryna catch a second The ruger getting sloppy, I might swap it for a Smith & Wesson A lethal weapon I'm riding around niggas section, ain't no one present Wrap a nigga up, we been sending them straight to heaven A thug like Makaveli I'm tryna hit a nigga taco, have him leaking relish The devil keep on tryna take me, got me speaking hellish I tell the feds, ain't hear a thing and I ain't see a motherfucker, Helen Keller This little bitch fiending, she'll buy whatever you sell her And I can't trust a nigga, believe whatever you tell him Cause he'll be the one telling, yeah, he'll be the one to tell it All we know is death, death to the opps Never had a ref but them techs never stopped I can't tell if this bitch wanting sex or a drop Beams on the FNs, and switches on the Glocks Beams on the FNs, and switches on the Glocks, Ugh Ahh, it's a cold city Paraphernalia on my side like it's sewn in me Know they wanna see me die like the old fifty Homie hit me with a game plan, I'm like what's the mission Niggas bitchin', knowing that we prone to get shit missing Keep a nine on me just in case I feel any tension I keep mine on me cause I might just leave some shit twitching I play by the rules, bitches, I play by the group Only in the coupe, so they lap it up since I'm the troop Cuban link just like a noose, in the war, it ain't no truce Ain't hitting niggas in they body, hope that ski-z bulletproof They booked Brodie for a body, know he gone and told his dukes Booked Brody for so long, he won't be home till 7-2 Lately I been on them beans, lately I been on them blues I'm tryna get my weight up, my cake up like bakers do Niggas can't face us, we Lakers, we come to hoop Ain't no chasing cause they follow us and do say what we do Call us makers cause this shit we making incredible Hit his face up like it was makeup, he never knew Ah, and this shit won't stop Nigga keep capping, we gon' hit him in his top Nigga keep flagging, it ain't white, then we won't stop All this shit that I be packing, it'll make a nigga drop All the shit that I be tagging, they remember, it's a lot Putting belt to ass, whooping shit just like a lot How you saying f*ck 12 when you know that you the cops All these drugs, paraphernalia, I see lights and I won't stop All we know is death, death to the opps Never had a ref but them techs never stopped I can't tell if this bitch wanting sex or a drop Beams on the FNs, and switches on the Glocks Beams on the FNs, and switches on the Glocks, Ugh Ahh, it's a cold city Paraphernalia on my side like it's sewn in me Know they wanna see me die like the old fifty Ah Ahh, ah My dog a shooter, I can't get his ass to chill So I just tell him keep his head up in that wheel And shoot for 30 on them drills Ahh, ah Ahh, ah Ahh, ah
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"Paraphernalia (feat. Torro) Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 27 Apr. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/13246998/CallMeShotti/Paraphernalia+%28feat.+Torro%29>.
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