Lyrics:
Lawton, AKA Deadshot
Flashback to Deadshot holding a phone
Next to him – and then a travelling shot
Of Gotham’s rooftops
Followed by Deadshot planting
Opened my doors man you know what’s next
Man you know what’s next
Man you know what’s next
Man you know what’s next
Man you know what’s next yuh
Ya’ll
and explore
Go inside
Got caught by the trap door
No lies
Stop talking that folk law
Silent vibez
Close up the window an
Lock door
Dickheads acting all
on the telephone and tell me baby I'm all alone
By the time I count from one to four to hear me knockin' upon her door
In the evening fore the sun goes down ain't
if I call her on the telephone
And tell her that I'm all alone
By the time I count from one to four
I hear her on my door
In the evening when
call her on the telephone
Tell her that I'm all alone
By the time I count from one to four
I hear her on my door
In the evening when the sun goes
Let me tell you 'bout a girl I know
She is my baby and she lives next door
Every mornin' 'fore the sun comes up
She brings me coffee in my
Inspiration, while certainly a state that can be practiced and multiplied, is by definition
Not a constant resource
Exterior influences are probably
the gallery seat
Come on home, I'm waiting here
Telephone
Call when you're near
cnd I'm cold, staring down the dark road
I've been waiting by your door
Come
nothing but move your lips like Milli Vanilli
I'm the guy, no, I'm disguised
I'm just playing by your side with knives and smile like I've got nine
No, 44,
Slide with a four-o Glock
Talking all that talk so his ass got shot down
He ain't know we was gon' pop out
Now his ass talking 'bout, "Calm down"
Oh,
Ooh
Oh yeah yeah
She wants more
Said she wants more than fireworks tonight
More like than a stick of dynamite
And everyone from next door can hear
no
Tell me we were better friends
Like oh woah
Not what you were saying when u didn't have the next guy
Pull up in an Aston I'm not talking like I'm
[Chorus:]
Momma I'm sorry
You know I never meant to hurt you, no.
But I'm in love with the boy next door.
Momma, please understand
And momma I'm so
the Chippendale chair
Talking on the telephone
Looking perplexed waving a hand in the air
In the great room all alone
Fifty years old today, a microdot
Let me tell you 'bout a girl I know
She is my baby and she lives next door
Every mornin' 'fore the sun comes up
She brings me coffee in my
Chill
This Trap On My Heart Be My Wife Until I go Die By My Side This Trap Be The Love Of My Life I'm Finna Go Far With The Fight
He Come On My Doorstep
you're llamas
Dumb niggas, they love ignoring the smartest
Til' feds come to the door, borin' apartments
Talking about some warrant for Jarvis
You idiot, I
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
The next day I went back to the her rest
Knocked on the door, intentions: finesse
She let me in and had nothing but a neglige on
Smelling like Liz
telephone
Had to catch my breath like she had made me need some prednisone
Catch me in my section with a weapon know I keep it on me
talking all they doing
we go to the wrasslin' matches and let off
a little steam?"
Now I'd never seen the matches before
And by the time we reached that arena door
applaud
When you tired of your man, give me a call
Dyke bitches talking out they jaw
Next minute calling for the law
This nine will have them calling
like that tempz guy
You was a had it all I was I get by
I used to mc in the mirror but now I've got a set time
Promoters ain't showing me off I ain't
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