Shooters lyrics

[Intro]
Taylor
Taylor... Gang

[Hook]
If you don't know nothing boy, you better know that you gon' respect my shooters
If you don't know nothing boy, you better know that you gon' respect my shooters
If you don't know nothing boy, you better know that you gon' respect my shooters
If you don't know nothing boy, you better know that you gon' respect my shooters
No, no, no, no, no, no, ain't no disrespecting my shooters
No, no, no, no, no, no, ain't no disrespecting my shooters
No, no, no, no, no, no, ain't no disrespecting my shooters
No, no, no, no, no, no, ain't no disrespecting my shooters

[Verse 1]
Brett Favre with them pistols, man them n*ggas throwing bullets
Lemon squeeze make 'em shine real easy when them motherf*ckers pull it, I been counting all this money up
Oh lord, say a prayer for him, might not make it out, filet mignon, we know the police outside staking out
My life and my money, two things I don't play about
And ain't a n*gga out here coaching me, but I can show you what a player 'bout
Short bus watch this retarded, man this motherf*cker stupid
And ain't no love out here just broke her heart, this ain't no motherf*cking cupid, god damn

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
I ain't gotta make a phone call, cause they right here with a n*gga
Have it your way, Big Mac drive-through, yeah, you can get it n*gga
Flip flop on that SS, I'm trying to do it like lil did
One time for my hood n*ggas, doing a coke or a dope bid (ay! ay!)
I just pulled up to the post spot, yeah, hell yeah, I'm with the trap sh*t
And it's still forty eight hundred everywhere, way more than rap sh*t
n*ggas really out here try to get to the money, man you n*ggas in the way though
Don't be tripping in the club outside, man them n*ggas known to let them f*cking K's go