Shoot 1st lyrics

by

Birdman


[Intro: Papa Rue]
Yea-yea, you know what I'm saying, it's the one Papa Rue (4 Real)
And tha Hot Boy$ Puttin' it down for Cash Money! (Uh-huh)
Come down!

[Chorus: Papa Rue]
Have you ever heard of a murderer, bloody murderer
The Hot Boys come one time, how many say murderer
Bloody murderer, Cash Money packing the low iron, low iron
Head bussa, wigsplitter one time
Hot Boy$ committing crime, crime
Head bussa, wigsplitter two times
Just feel the heat of me low iron, low iron

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
Blah, to your face, hollow tips go chase
Drum rates erase, every day in the face (4 real)
I, I, shoot first, slugs leave quickly
She test me, plenty n*ggas gone bleed (Yea, yea)
Under the possession of blood and crystal
Hittin' a n*gga section with guns, leavin' it foul
Blow out ya, skies you coming back with the guns
Lil bads yell, "Hot!", to the top of my lungs
Same n*gga that a hit you set beat you son (4 real)
You know me lil' shorty Miss Cita's son
Lil' Wayne n*gga, Calleon, H-O-T B-O-Y U-P-T soldier
Can't stop me, with the bullets I throw, and the K's I tote
And the weed I smoke, and the corners I done sew
Who, you not ready? Uh-uh, not now, not then, not ever
Now, boom, clear the spot, better back off 'fore I blast off
Put my mask on and watch I, I act a dawg
Y'all wanted beef, and what, we made it worse
Three steps, shoot, pah! n*gga, we shoot first
[Chorus: Papa Rue]
Have you ever heard of a murderer, bloody murderer
The Hot Boys come one time, how many say murderer
Bloody murderer, Cash Money packing the low iron, low iron
Head bussa, wigsplitter one time
Hot Boy$ committing crime, crime
Head bussa, wigsplitter two times
Just feel the heat of me low iron, low iron

[Verse 2: B.G.]
It's a dirty world, gotta play the game for what it's worth
I was taught the way to survive a shoot out is to shoot first
That first draw daily it a leave you ass in the hearse
And I refuse to be the one on the T-shirt
Now Lil' Turk you got the AK? He say, "For sure I got it"
Lil' Wayne you drivin'? He said, "B.G., fo sho I'm drivin'"
Juve put your camouflage n*gga tonight we ridin'
These n*ggas that's playin' with us like flys they gone be droppin'
We burnin' block like a forest fire burn n*gga
Them chopper bullets melt you body open burn n*gga
Like a perm sittin' in a ho hair to long burn n*gga
Beefin' with the Hot Boy$ I hope you people got insurance n*gga
It's gone be 187 after 187, it's gone be blukah after blukah on my MAC-11
Every time I hit a n*gga set the seen get worse you heard me
f*ck all that stuntin', duck, cause I'ma shoot first, ya heard me
[Chorus: Papa Rue]
Have you ever heard of a murderer, bloody murderer
The Hot Boys come one time, how many say murderer
Bloody murderer, Cash Money packing the low iron, low iron
Head bussa, wigsplitter one time
Hot Boy$ committing crime, crime
Head bussa, wigsplitter two times
Just feel the heat of me low iron, low iron

[Verse 3: Turk]
When I shoot first erasing every n*gga on your set
Two Timer my thug name I be thuggin' in black
More artillery than an army have realer
Serving you block you get caught be the one to killa
Settin', no hesitation in my per finger
When my guns bang it be singing like a sanger
Headbanger, shootin' n*ggas like a syringe
Wanna play games well say hello to my friend Frankie
The n*gga who working with fifty shots can't run can't
Can't run, can't hide so you automatically got, nonstop it becoming with full speed
n*gga that's what you get f*cking with a n*gga like me
Tha HB, Hot Boy from CMR
Like Juve, f*ck with us it a be no tomorrow
Think we playin', and test us bad n*gga
It a be you ass one more n*gga who will get a figure
[Chorus: Papa Rue]
Have you ever heard of a murderer, bloody murderer
The Hot Boys come one time, how many say murderer
Bloody murderer, Cash Money packing the low iron, low iron
Head bussa, wigsplitter one time
Hot Boy$ committing crime, crime
Head bussa, wigsplitter two times
Just feel the heat of me low iron, low iron

[Verse 4: Juvenile]
Now a n*gga was makin' cake rolls by the caseloads
Kept a chopper with a arm fold wherever I go
And I always had to hustle that I could go head
I was snatchin' by the truckloads all in your sh*t
My mommy used to tell me you gotta slow down
But I didn't wanna hear sh*t cause I was a clown
Look I done showed you lil' n*ggas, I done mold you lil' n*ggas
You besta not play with me cause, look, I done told you lil' n*ggas
I ain't the one, my nerves bad, I move quick
That was my partner that you killed what's happenin' with you b*tch?
I hit him, bam-bam, two to the chest
Bam-bam two to the head, bam, one through the neck
I looked up, now which one of you b*tches wanna be next
I picked the case and then I broke through the Jects
Damn them b*tches saw me, I hope they don't talk
But if I think they gone talk believe they ain't gon' walk
You see these golds, these diamonds, all these houses, these jewels
They got n*ggas trying to jack and I'm acting a f*cking fool
I know that every day I gotta protect my naps
I know that a n*gga waitin' trying to put it in my lap, shoot first

[Outro: Papa Rue]
Have you ever heard of a Murda, Bloody Murda
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net