Correction Paroles Straight To It* par King Von

Featuring(s) : Fivio Foreign

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Paroles

[Intro]
(DJ on the beat, so it's a banger)

[Chorus: King Von]
Let's get straight to it (Straight to it)
Ain't tryna talk, let's do it (Let's do it)
Nigga play crazy in this bitch, we shootin' (We shoot)
The opps be sick, they losin' (Boom, boom)
All these guns we got, we use 'em (We use 'em)
He got caught, that boy was stupid (He stupid)
Gun got dirty, hurry up, get a new one (Get a new one)
Nigga, you don't wanna get into it (Nah, nah)
Let's get straight to it  (Straight to it)
Ain't tryna talk, let's do it (Let's do it)
Nigga play crazy in this bitch, we shootin' (We shoot)
The opps be sick, they losin' (Boom, boom)
All these guns we got, we use 'em (We use 'em)
He got caught, that boy was stupid (He stupid)
Gun got dirty, hurry up, get a new one (Get a new one)
Nigga, you don't wanna get into it (Nah, nah)

[Verse 1: King Von]
I was a shorty, I was poppin' out early
I was outside slidin' with the Glock .9 (With the Glock .9)
Catch him goin' to school, it's the right time (It's the right time)
If a nigga don't front your move, better pipe down (Grrah, grrah)
Pop me a pill then I bite down
Six-Double-O, real shit, free BiteDown
Catch a nigga lackin' then we shootin' on sight now
He got caught, now he Can'tGetRight now (Boom, boom, boom)
If they come outside and tryna post up then we gon' spin they shit (Spin, spin)
We gon' hit they block with a whole hundred shots (Grrah)
No matter how deep they is (Get in, get in)
I shoot, niggas don't shoot, no kizzy (Uh-huh)
He cheatin', it's gettin' real (Damn, damn)
Somethin' wrong, that boy can't miss (Uh-huh)
Get caught, I plead the fifth (Boom, boom, boom)
I said that was my last time the last time but I still slid (I did)
He said he was gon' kill me and my homies
Look, now he real dead (Now he dead, dead)
When them niggas die, we don't feel bad (Uh-huh)
We get 'em real mad (Yeah, yeah)
Get up on live, make him real mad (Grrah, grrah)
'Cause we want him real bad (Grrah, grrah, grrah)

[Verse 2: Fivio Foreign]
Got a whole thirty clip for him, uh
You better watch how you get, 'cause shit can get lit for him, uh
When I show him this huh, lil' brodie gon' deep on him, uh
I'ma do what I want, ain't no guessin' Fivi'
Got the forty cali' in my jacket proudly
Boy, I had to build it then I had to lob it
You ain't did the shootin' then don't jack about it
Them niggas fakin' the funk, I post what I like and I say what I want
I'm smokin' on opps, I don't play with no blunts
I send 'em on drills, and he ate for the month
You catchin' bodies and I'm payin' 'em a bunch
I still get charges 'cause I give him the gun
So many shots 'cause I hit his guts
I love my shooter 'cause he ain't give a fuck

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