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lirik lagu rhymez – snap capone

[hook]
spitting rhymes and bullets, you n*ggas intruders
my n*ggas are shooters, medusas
hitting b*tches, madoolas
n*ggas wish they could do this, i c*ck it and shoot it
wonderful shooting, cops still pursuing
glocks still booming

[verse 1]
opps still losing
coupe’s drop*top and still cruising
crack pot’s still moving, head top’s still roofing
vest top, chest shot still bruise him
snap runs sh*t like vladimir putin
n*ggas preeing like a spy, we’re gonna party when you die
thug life motherf*cker, winners get to rise
when i went jail i only missed my .45
still get four or five shots pon the nine
n*ggas praying when i come through
stick in my hand, gun kicks like kung*fu
tried it on a case, tried to figure who gunned you
make a b*tch cum then i cum too
gun check, mic check, one*two
porsche with the red seats, move like pesci
stressing the tec till your neck bleeds
feds and pagans wanna get me
there’s suttin real special bout the speshy
peel off in the xe, getaway driver named freshie
shout out my n*gga deadly
free up my n*gga older snap and n*gga like wesley
bullet showers for my foes
money, cars and hoes
my n*gga’s stuck on parole
i ain’t scared to die but i ain’t ready to go
presidential roley and it’s flooded with stones
i ain’t scared to die but i ain’t ready to go
presidential roley and it’s flooded with stones

[verse 2]
win battles with actions, never with words
the sub submerge, put his f*cking face in the dirt
n*gga died at sixteen cause he wanted to ride
like twenty*five to life never crossed his mind
now someone’s gonna die when i pop my nine
the pagans been plotting
i’m paranoid, my gun’s been polished
n*ggas call my name but i ain’t friends with these dudes
how you a banger and got guns that’s never been used?
shoot your whole squad dead, make the prime time news
insta life got him k!lled, that’s a million views
no love for the system, love for my sisters
my nieces and nephews, know that i love you
f*ck my enemies, them n*ggas planning my death
me and tem gonna squeeze until all of them dead
word to blacks, spray the mac until all of them rest
flashbacks to drive*by’s, n*ggas gunning for heads
pistol popping, my n*gga wigging and whacking buses
selling products and f*cking b*tches and counting profits
prophecy of the future, i’m like a n0ble prophet
if it’s too good to be true n*gga don’t trust it
glitter gold and this flashy life, we sacrifice
they hate my guts, wanna crucify me like jesus christ
run up on me, the mac upon me, i’ll feed him fries
never sympathise, let my enemies bl**dy die

- snap capone

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