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lirik lagu shoot a nigga – d-block

shoot a n*gga lyrics
[verse 1: bucky]
ayo shoot a n*gga in his mouth f*ck the rapping
glock with the double action, get to bucking and clapping
f*ck with buck it’s gon’ happen, i ain’t bluffing or [?]
get to ducking and dashing, ’cause ain’t no running [?]
the streets have turned me into a motherf*cking assasin
i run up in your crib for the [?] tuck in your stashing
up in your cabinets, and i’m flipping over your coach, i’m gripping your ?c?
n*gga hand over them out since i’m going in for the k!ll
aim at your throat or your grill, i’m loaded with steel
go ‘head, provoke me, i will
have your block look similar to a scene from private ryan
all you see is n*ggas dying, choppers and [?] flying

[verse 2: st.raw]
straw [?] from my name n*gga, doing my thang n*gga
connects still importing the kane n*gga
o.t. somewhere [?] n*gga, hustling to gain n*gga
been to the struggle and pain n*gga
all black tahoe, switching the lanes n*gga
ryde or die motto, i gеt what i can n*gga
grade a coke ’bout as white as thе sand n*gga
got it for your kilos, ounces and grams n*ggas
s*t [?] one in the chain n*gga
i don’t mean cool when i say you can hang n*gga
snitching ain’t part of the game n*gga
bodies i deem missing part of their brains n*gga, it’s arliss
[chorus: bucky (st.raw)]
(shoot a n*gga)
if it come out his face wrong
(shoot a n*gga!)
right in his face with the [?]
(shoot a n*gga!)
with slugs the size of acorns
to come to his wake
dressed in black with the gauge drawn
shoot a n*gga!
(if it come out his face wrong)
shoot a n*gga!
(in his face with the [?])
shoot a n*gga!
(slugs the size of acorns
to show up at his wake
dressed in black with the gauge drawn)

[verse 3: bully]
shoot a n*gga!
king of new york, get it popped like arty clay
all about a penny dog, you can learn the harder way
don’t say sh*t, don’t believe me, let the llama spray
bully hit n*ggas close range or a mile away
?dirty ol’? six shot shooter
stay with them big toys, call them block moves
good with the [?], better with the ruger
i’m all about my money dog, let that not fool ya
uh, i live what i speak, you can put my word on it
only thing i want [?]
go hard every track, always spit superb on it
[?] bully got the birds on it
[verse 4: styles p]
if the money ain’t comin in lumpsums
i swear to god get your t**th and gums ready for dum dums
whoever think they the king, come f*ck with the spade ace
always busting a clip, leave with a sprayed face
d*block shooter, neck first head next
ain’t finish the job, k!ll you during bedrest
red s550, real [?], move real slow
it’s big guns in the headrest
let a bullet rip in your scalp, let you die, p*ss in your mouth
see what the riff is about
pick a straw i got a bully to buck you
or a n*gga that came home from 20 in and he ready to f*ck you
boss, at the desk with the siamese cats
k!ll you uncut [?] from the chinese cats
ghost, no telling where you find me at
behind the trigger of some sh*t that get your mind pushed back

[chorus: bucky (st.raw)]
(shoot a n*gga)
if it come out his face wrong
(shoot a n*gga!)
right in his face with the [?]
(shoot a n*gga!)
with slugs the size of acorns
to come to his wake
dressed in black with the gauge drawn
shoot a n*gga!
(if it come out his face wrong)
shoot a n*gga!
(in his face with the [?])
shoot a n*gga!
(slugs the size of acorns
to show up at his wake
dressed in black with the gauge drawn)
shoot a n*gga!

- d block

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