Lyrics:
her shot ima fuck on her friend
Baby this RUNTZ ain't no regular weed
If You wanna smoke then you gotta pay me
Or go get regular nigga for free
service of the law
Coming for him
All through the night
Moon or shine
They've got their sight
On the man who'd be
The law's dinner
You don't hire
A saint
down, I'm probably gon' die
I know, I know, big guns sell dope
Eddie Kane's little bro, hundred k, one whip, hah
Open Eddie Kane for hire
Been tryna
to roll
Gangster for life
Gangster for life
Guns (check), girls (check)
Come on, we ain't done yet (uh)
Got a lot to handle
We ain't takin' over
I don't wish death on anybody, except for the opps who they play with us, they could get shot and that shit go for anybody
Said it's murder for hire
now I'm so grown up
I don't got one gun army, got a slum on me
To hire a gun army, get you spun like laundry
And I'll be somewhere under palm trees,
now I'm so grown up
I don't got one gun army, got a slum on me
To hire a gun army, get you spun like laundry
And I'll be somewhere under palm trees,
a fresh feel for the bar.
Lines drawn of jellyfish caviar,
Saying: "Want to jam?"
[Chorus]
I don't like throwing
Parties like that,
But I love
yeah, yeah son)
I know you don't want to hear it man
But, hey, man, wait, hold up loc you got company man
(where's my guns?)
When I'm ridin'
wearing big dreams, drinking tylenol
We’re the outliers, when a gun fires, we put ammunition on the pedistal
We ain’t perfect either, ain’t nobody hire us
out here for hire
Throwing up blood til the world expires
Nigga's lost and it turned out
Ain't got no direction and don't know which way to go
and it came with the gun
He gonna keep talking, we shooting for fun
We gonna keep working, the job getting done
I got a whip with the bloody red guts
Yeah
my desire
When my grandkids are born, them... can retire
So if I'm king Louie, Sammoth's Mowgli for hire
Better talk to me man cub and gimme that fire
as LeBron James
You say I'm bad, well I say you're ass
I got a gun that can shoot fast
It's a Glock 18, and it's waiting for you
This is an album and it's
resist, why you fire at me?
Why you gotta fire at me?
I ain't got a gun, why you fire at me?
Fire at me, devour me, I know you wanna hire me
To be apart
the den
Listen, a killa for hire, expert
Don't talk, only point out of work
Smart move, nigga, ready to skirt
Ain't no jam, prepare yourself, cause this
from sambisa
She cut my liver
Hire killer
She be hire killer gan
Bam bam bima
Straight from sambisa
She cut my liver
Hire killer
She be hire killer gan
nines, Bleek for hire
Your crew murderize, see the guns that I'm bringin
In an all out battle, Bleek come out swingin'
Memph the type of nigga that'll
[Chorus]
Fi di world fi run better
We affi send a prayer
Bombs and guns, a weh some rich bwoy a hire
Babes having babies and son a shot copper
He gone hear a gun sound
Lean
Lean
Lean Lean Lean
Uh
Yeah
Look
Feelin like Im finna die
Tryna put niggas on
Told the feinds cop slow
Cuz the dope too
patterns, me on my way to Saturn wit a bomb
Numb be it view, or Saudi Shawty
I figure before the first gun blast, they know who gone win
Now won't that make
If you are feeling low
Sitting there by the fire
I'll be your Santa for hire
I'll help to keep you warm
Fulfill all your desires
I'll be your Santa
gone.
Because life on a steady Dey shoot me-gun
You want fight me I Dey for e throne
I no stand alone
E pack e grace e put dem for my bone.
Na you
I know, big guns sell dope
Eddie Kane's little bro, hundred k, one whip
Hah
Open Eddie Kane for hire
Been tryna get rich for hours
Nights like this I
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