SQUASH, Daddy 1 - G City Run Out lyrics

Shot a fire, man a holler out, "Get low!"
(Get low)
Shot up your bloodclaat friend
Watch you dead slow
(Dead slow)
Family and relative dem a bawl say
Dem miss you
Sorry, don't let go (Let go)
When G City run out

Tell dem me no play-play
Man run out with the AK
Anything at all weh me see a get spray-spray
Shot dem up, boy lay down inna clay-clay
Mobay, dem know me no fear
No, me no scare
When G City run out

Clap the Kel Tec
.44 wheel and buss off
Anuh sea, me see man a chuck off
See the road youth, get the fuck off
Press up the trigger 'til the
Fire pin bruk off
Oh fuck, 3 star, get your neck cut off
Mi grandfather shotgun, lift it up, dust off
(Bumboclaat)
Boy a go dead from me
Buck dem inna the target
Pull up with the 'matic and make
It hit a hard grip
Simple ting, buss a head down a market
Shell down your place
Melt down like chocolate
Bumboclaat, can't bother with the talk lip
No, no, no
When G City run out
G City run out

Head lick the six far like a Brian Lara
Teeth a run out with the llama
Bumboclaat, right now, heart of drama
Kill the mother, the father, the daughter
G City mi say, yo dawg, we gone a Sparta
If some boy feel dem brave
Tell dem fi test the water
Bere crocs, dem marrow
From morning me a hunt a duppy
Now me bruk mi ducks

Hold on pon the trigger
Nozzle kick out like a Jackie Chan
Rocket from from Pakistan
Clap it pon the ratty van
Make boy a disappear like magician
Blood a run like the soldier weh
Dive off of the ratty van
Dead 'round the corner
Squash clap him and me drop the bomb
What is wrong? Drive by inna the vaxi van
Dem think it's a taxi man
A whole lot of zootoop make me clap it pon
Just drop the song

Clap the Kel Tec
.44 wheel and buss off
Anuh sea, me see bere man a chuck off
See the road youth, get the fuck off
Press up the trigger 'til the
Fire pin bruk off
No talk
When G City run out
G City run out

Me swear to God we no fear
No boy with dem face wrinkle
That we mash up like a Pringle
Murder your bloodclaat
Lef' your woman really single
You shouldn't get mi brain bringle
Kill a boy inna middle day
DJ Sham you want a jingle?
Dem no take me serious true me simple
A when the Glock a kick
That a soccer kick
Blood a drop, a drip
Run inna macka stick
Boy dead, when the Glock a tic
Fi the brand new Glock a wha' me buy a chip
Fix, what a drop, a drip
With the rubber grip
Fire bere copper bloodclaat and hollow tip
Fi buss whole heap of head dawg
You know me have the scholarship
Dem anuh gangsta, dem boy deh a swallow shit
When G City run out