Shoot Off Pt. 4

(Tay Keith-)
Yeah
(DJ Meech, lil' b-)
Ayy, Leo, don't stop me, this off top part four
Alright, alright, we got it like 90 bars

Ayy, used to be the fed, now the paparazzi snapping
Ayy, everybody smoking on somebody, boy quit capping, ayt
Somebody tell Tay Keith he a fool, this b- slapping
Left my last b-, what happened?
Shout-out my last b-, what's happening?
Real n-, never been the one to pillow talk, I never seen a pillow
B- told me Richard Mille or bye-bye, I'ma miss her
FN hold baby missiles, it go through your bone gristle

High security, still tote the pistol
I don't rely on nan' n-
Let's have some fun with this s-
I'ma slow down the flow (okay)
You know this CM10, this "Shoot Off" number four ("Shoot Off" number four)
You see that Phantom and that Cullinan and that Wraith and the Ghost
I f- your b- on a plane, double back for the throat

I'm investing in crypto, I be texting in street code
Got more watches than jewelers, want my b- in plurals
That's more than one at a time if she ain't with it, it's fine
She know I'm busy as f-, that's my favorite line

When the beat breakdown, make me feel like I'm breaking down them pounds
And my sister Tasha in the kitchen with that newspaper on the ground (keep going)
When them bricks came in me and Nero had ziplocs in them ziplocs
Standing over that stove making that pot go do the beatbox (go, go)

Joe Biden with the big rocks, 50 pointers in the Rollie
Trackhawk and a Redeye, none of my sh- stolen
Shirt off in that XL, might go luxury, uh-huh
Know I keep it on me so don't f- with me, uh-huh

Ayy, I used to ride a four, and now I'm in the Forbes
I used to step on woodgrain, now it's marble floors
I miss the Honda Accord, used to have a b- in it with the bricks in it
Rental trucks tinted with the sticks in it
Yeah, I been spinning (24 left)
Yeah, I been winning, big Gotti, big getting it

No feelings, drug dealing, turned that sh- to a business
Solo on all my mission, want no witness or codefendants
Never put no - in the business, no cap, no kidding
I take this sh- to the graveyard
I got a million in that Goyard
I made a half a million out my room
Oh yeah, our trap booming

I'm eating noodles serving consumers
Locked in with the streets, never move off rumors
Facts only
This that Cocaine Muzik, yeah, I'm right back on it (almost there)
Gave my nigga a hundred K, turned his back on me
Ain't no love in these streets, ain't no loyalty
How opps beefing with me but they avoiding me

(Alright, just make sure I get my credit)



Credits
Writer(s): Mario Mims, Brytavious Lakeith Chambers, Demetrius Rayaun Moore, Leo Goff
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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