Lyrics:
A horse and a flea and three blind mice
Sat on a curbstone shooting dice
The horse, he slipped
Then fell on the flea
"Whoops," said the flea
"There's
my heat shooting it sideways
A wife on the run
Full of common blunts
Unconditionally married
To my gun
Fulfillin' my destiny
On knees
I let my top, drop racing against the clock
World still spinning
So I'm shooting for the stars
It don't stop, just watch
How I flip the plot they
Shooting for the stars
All I see is clouds
Lost in my ways
Feel like I can't get out
Drowning in my sorrows
All I hear is doubt
Paranoia on my mind
used to shootings
Got a sugar mama trippy like she Whitney Houston
Used to triple ghosting mobbing making murder music
Ima execute swear that we
give it up
Run up in your spot, for your watch, take ya thot
Put the TV in the clock, in a box
I need everything you got, from your fitted to your socks
eyes on me now I listen to niggas so let me speak now
My 2 cents might change a nigga Movement
All monkey see now
Drugs money pussy and shooting
Young
Mother fuckers jump to conclusions
Try and box me somehow I always comeback like Rocky
ASAP gave me some game he said I'm iller than any of these rap
at the shooting range just 'cause practice makes perferct
Bullseye, I stunt growth and stop lives
You run with niggas that's more chicken then pot pies
Bok bok
at the shooting range just 'cause practice makes perferct
Bullseye, I stunt growth and stop lives
You run with niggas that's more chicken then pot pies
Bok bok
On and on and on it's more strange
Time to hit the shooting range
Quick with the heater on their hip
Young Jesse James came to test your aim (test it)
I seen you
year, Slime here
Cartier box face, call it the time's square
Why year, I drive and fly Lear
V-16, need a coupe with nine gears
Yeah! Mob member, star
With sad record sales won't flop (nah)
That's what you thought but I'm in that
New Porsche no box earrings chain on no
Watch (that's big) picture
I got diamonds to watch, frukit niggaz
I took it ol' school, got the 5-9 in the box
Dog, let me catch a nigga eyeing my watch
What I'm firing's
for my shooters
I got a Glock with my shooters
Skoop got a Mac with a cooler
I got the box like a jeweler
Four or five shooters, four or five Rougers
I
the Glock
And have to cap facts like a Snapple top
I bought the team with me, racks is in 350
That 9 and the Glock will put Shine
Shyne in a box, I'm P diddy
Yeah (Don Cannon)
I just got out of jail and did like
Six racks fuck y'all, yeah, yeah
Bit the swag, fresh up out the box
Bitch, I took the Jag
Shawty finna fly to southwest
Told me post up when she out there
Finna bring my dawgs like a box sled
Puffing on Cali 10 for the gram
I can move
you say cuh
Ready for any footage you wanna get
I got call nobody 'cause
I do my own stunts
Its the X rated version of a box office hit
I see you ready
man, you shooting like a rookie that don't know his range
Smoking, watch me go insane, opus and the Novocaine
Shit was once an open game, we got it by
but i'll save the last dance
i just bought some new guns my momma said it aint worth it,
but im at the shooting range just cause practice makes perfect
don't even want to know that
Have you in my frame keep em shooting like a Kodak
Roll that, smoking only haze because you know dat
Fake MCs always asking
should harass
And ask for id
You would never see Trayvon Martin
In a hoodie in Connecticut
Shooting the kindergarten
Is it me, or can anyone see, our only
box
A hundred grand large, all off of hard
I don't fuck with rappers all y'all frauds
Calling all cars, AR-AB got a gun
Crack in the bag cause AR-AB got
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