MellowHype - Igotagun lyrics
[MellowHype - Igotagun lyrics]
BITCH!
Calling and ripping through my precisions
I'm killing, lyrical villain, I'm higher
Touchin' the ceilin'
I'm willing to fucking win this
I'm in this to finish niggas for dinner
I'm fuckin' sinnin'
Begin to look out below to your temple
(boom)
I call back, September, October, November
December
You faggots put on your jackets before
It snow in the winter
Rookies and ginger cookies, going to school
Playing hookey
If I was starting to overlook me
No contest, I arm wres
Monster on his Loch Ness
Got more than one penis
Hoochies hop up on my crotches
Spotless, fucking a conscious goddess
In the darkness, latches and
Harness is all set, i got this
Heartless, congress, condoms
Working on a topless
The compass is directing, secting
I get carried away with the sexting
Complexing she's yours, I'm annexing
I got a gun (I cock it back)
I got a gun (Better wear your strap)
I got a gun (Nigga, don't get clapped)
You better run (See it in my lap)
I got a gun (Nigga, got my gun)
I got a gun (Nigga, this shit fun)
I got a gun (I'ma kill that bitch)
You better run
Left Brain is my Lex Luger
Bitch I'm Waka Flocka over the stove
Mixing music in a pot of rasta pasta
Swag me the fuck out
I stash my dirty money at Cassie's house
Put my gold teeth in a vulture's mouth
120 degrees pistol holster's pouch
Radness of warriors, jewlery store
Gory whores
Bloody and lovely, Wolf Gang coyote ugly
I'm a wild animal, bitch, I can't be tamed
Or identified, or better, even named
And ho, that's a shame
Shoulda applied more effort in this game
Yeah, call me Acronym Jim
Keep my Beretta in my burgundy Tim
Shoot that nigga, make sure he dead
Shoot that nigga, aim for his head
Kill that bitch and steal her purse
Call everybody here her phone
If that mothafucka works
Take that, bitch, $40 a month
Calling and ripping through my precisions
I'm killing, lyrical villain, I'm higher
Touchin' the ceilin'
I'm willing to fucking win this
I'm in this to finish niggas for dinner
I'm fuckin' sinnin'
Begin to look out below to your temple
(boom)
I call back, September, October, November
December
You faggots put on your jackets before
It snow in the winter
Rookies and ginger cookies, going to school
Playing hookey
If I was starting to overlook me
No contest, I arm wres
Monster on his Loch Ness
Got more than one penis
Hoochies hop up on my crotches
Spotless, fucking a conscious goddess
In the darkness, latches and
Harness is all set, i got this
Heartless, congress, condoms
Working on a topless
The compass is directing, secting
I get carried away with the sexting
Complexing she's yours, I'm annexing
I got a gun (I cock it back)
I got a gun (Better wear your strap)
I got a gun (Nigga, don't get clapped)
You better run (See it in my lap)
I got a gun (Nigga, got my gun)
I got a gun (Nigga, this shit fun)
I got a gun (I'ma kill that bitch)
You better run
Left Brain is my Lex Luger
Bitch I'm Waka Flocka over the stove
Mixing music in a pot of rasta pasta
Swag me the fuck out
I stash my dirty money at Cassie's house
Put my gold teeth in a vulture's mouth
120 degrees pistol holster's pouch
Radness of warriors, jewlery store
Gory whores
Bloody and lovely, Wolf Gang coyote ugly
I'm a wild animal, bitch, I can't be tamed
Or identified, or better, even named
And ho, that's a shame
Shoulda applied more effort in this game
Yeah, call me Acronym Jim
Keep my Beretta in my burgundy Tim
Shoot that nigga, make sure he dead
Shoot that nigga, aim for his head
Kill that bitch and steal her purse
Call everybody here her phone
If that mothafucka works
Take that, bitch, $40 a month