Correction Paroles Hunting Opps par Pooh Shiesty

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Paroles

Blrrrd, blrrrd
Blrrrd, blrrrd, blrrrd, blrrrd
Ayy (Ayy)

Look like you holdin' on that drank, n***a, grab some ice and go pour it
I brought my AK to the fight, but it came with a lighter sword
Got all these stripes off takin' lives, they feel they time comin', they know it
Sh*t get tight, I'ma bust twice with no regrets, too paranoid, blrrrd
Man down, now his mama tellin' sad stories, blrrrd
Tapped him up in his head, we took him out his glory, blrrrd
Hop out with automatics, no way to ignore it
N***as on the other side ain't ever shot sh*t, Kyle Lowry

Hang out the window with them chops, you know we huntin' down opps for fun
Everybody with me slimin' sh*t down, they gon' pull a murder one
Stay on this f**k sh*t, don't even try it, it's a known fact we ain't goin'
Taught to shoot first every time, Shiesty ball hoggin', always scorin'
I set the play for my lil' slime, Wizza come through and back door it (Shot off)
In the booth, I get to rhymin', soundin' like I'm a street poet
See all them sneaks, I won't ignore it, grab the chopstick, I go blow it
Don't come 'round talkin' 'bout your plug, you know I'm quick to cut that cord
We was four deep in that Fentley truck, we slide with Glocks and K's
I got Shiesty with me ready to work that new switch I just gave
We done smoked so many opps this year, goddamn, we havin' flavor
B*t*h, we takin' all the hits, just put the money on the table (Slidin')
The season murder, murder
Demons, demons, hearse, hearse
Rest in peace, that b*t*h didn't have respect for cheese
We ridin' slow, we never speedin'
When we creep, we never mean in
That sh*t just happen in that action
Me and Shiesty back to back
Hang out the window with that MAC
He couldn't duck, this ain't Aflac
Throw the lob up, Kobe, Shaq
I get the drop, we move the stacks
Can't find you, get your brother whacked
I can't put sh*t in no past
These n***as hidin', they know they dyin'
I put them slimes on they a**
Now we all know you in the past

I set the play for my lil' slime, Wizza come through and back door it (Shot off)
In the booth, I get to rhymin', soundin' like I'm a street poet
See all them sneaks, I won't ignore it, grab the chopstick, I go blow it
Don't come 'round talkin' 'bout your plug, you know I'm quick to cut that cord

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