SHOOTIN SHIT! (Toxic Punk Freestyle) Lyrics

Rockstar, Rockstar

Grrahh, grrahh

Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm

I call up my partner, put the chop on ya head like a barber (Bow)

Rrahh, rrahh, rrahh-rrahh

Blttt, bow

Rrahh, Lil5iveten Lil5iveten

Im So Slimee

You don't wanna get us started

Put shit in the dirt like gardeners

I call up my partner, he'll put the chop on ya head like a barber

Just like Candace Parker, we pull up shootin' shit

Brodie Vince Carter, he pull up slam, i'm alley-oopin' shit

Put him in a box, he done checked, we be doin' shit

Packin' niggas, baggin' niggas, we out here movin' shit

Look, he in a casket, they done put him in a suit and shit

Fuck a bartender, give him shots now he loose and shit

Stretch a nigga loose and shit, better tightin' up

Ain't no fightin' us, one kiss from the glock, goodnight to ya'

I pick up a gun, aim it with precision, nice as fuck

Niggas said "it's up", put shit in they ceiling now they stuck

Uh, Me and twin, we got Big Swagguh

See yo bitch then we might grab her

Yea, we'll gladly bag her

Uh, that lil bitch a gagger

Jus like batter, i'ma beat that shit, I bet she love the pattern

Then she gotta' skid-daddle, if you want the bitch, shit you could have her

I'm smokin' gas, know I gotta have it, yea I got a habit

And I don't smoke that shit if it's in a baggie, I smoke out the packet

Pack a opp, flip him like an acrobatic, he doin' gymnastics

Pull up, jumpshot, make him hop like a rabbit

Brodie gon pop us a cab

Try to reach, the pistol I grab

Arm in his face, make a lil nigga dab

Standover gang, peel shit like a scab

Take off his lid for all that cap

Pop off his top, leave his fitted in his lap

Put him to rest, he ain't takin' no nap

Knock out his lights, he gettin' clapped (Bow)

They like "WOAH!, fuck is that sound?"

Three-Five-Seven, it's a Tre-Pound

Car swing thru, we breakin' it down

Slam at a opp, i'ma take him down

Now it's a dead nigga layin' onna ground

Fuck, should've never been out of bounds

Do me a hit, then I go out of town

(Bet the police can't find me now)

5iveten on the beat, yea it's goin' down

I smoke weed, I don't spark no milds

(I smoke weed, I don't spark no milds)

Uh, You don't wanna get us started

Put shit in the dirt like gardeners

I call up my partner, he'll put the chop on ya head like a barber

Just like Candace Parker, we pull up shootin' shit

Brodie Vince Carter, he pull up slam, i'm alley-oopin' shit

Put him in a box, he done checked, we be doin' shit

Fuck a bartender, give him shots now he loose and shit

Stretch a nigga loose and shit, better tightin' up

Ain't no fightin' us, one kiss from the glock, goodnight to ya'

I pick up a gun, aim it with precision, nice as fuck

Niggas said "it's up", put shit in they ceiling now they stuck

Brodie gon pop us a cab

Try to reach, the pistol I grab

Arm in his face, make a lil nigga dab

Standover gang, peel shit like a scab

Take off his lid for all that cap

Pop off his top, leave his fitted in his lap

Put him to rest, he ain't takin' no nap

Knock out his lights, he gettin' clapped (Bow)

They like "WOAH!, fuck is that sound?"

Three-Five-Seven, it's a Tre-Pound

Car swing thru, we breakin' it down

Slam at a opp, i'ma take him down (Take him down)

Fuck, should've never been out of bounds (Been out of bounds)

5iveten on the beat, yea it's goin' down (yea it's goin' down)

Uh