Shoot Out Lyrics

Young Moola, baby
Uh-huh. Yeah.
My lip all fucked up.
You could prolly hear it in my P's and my B's, but it's
cool, fuck it, let's go

Shoot until my motha fuckin hand fall off
You're track stars, a gunshot ran ya'll off
I pop like a soda watch the can fall off
I can kill ya'll, and ya'll boss
Shotguns, handguns, louder than a band drum
You fuckin with the drum major let me play you the
anthem.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, call that heavy metal
I say "Bang, bang", bitch I make you feel every letter
B-A-N-G, B-A-N-G, G-A-N-G, we spray, then leave
We play when we know we play in E-V-E-R, CPR
Dr. Carter are you the D-Zeez boy?
Young Money mother fucker these deez boys
Bitches ya crazy, we's retard
Watch Nina, Mack, and Tommy have a brief Minouge like,
haha, like
Soldier Boy on the beat, but you could call me Chef
Bouyardi
Cuz I'ma heat this shit, and I'ma eat this shit
Planet Earth is my toilet, you're beneath this shit
Then I flush and wipe my ass, gun slinger like a pass
I cock back and throw a bomb, now Hail Mary
Your tale very, fairy tale, very frail
And yeah we got them hammers, tryna hit every nail
Let them sail up the river with that ho shit
Or leave em face down in the fuckin ocean, yeah
I ain't on no other shit, bitch I'm on some more shit
That "Hello, how you doin?" I am at your front door
shit
That "Aw naw, he got a gun, oh shit." Shit. Shit.

Ok, it's Young Money, what you know about it?
The semi-auto will rip open your body and tear the soul
out it
And all that frontin shit, nigga I don't know about it
You can call me Master Jay bitch, I'm so bout it
Even my ho bout it, and don't doubt itLil Wayne - Shoot Out - http://motolyrics.com/lil-wayne/shoot-out-lyrics.html
Cuz we both would be Angelina and Brad-in

Spazzing and blastin, blastin and ra-ta-tattin
And nah, I don't coook em like potatoes, I mash em
I don't give a fuck about your money or your fashion
Shots through the window of your brand new Aston
You get out, try to run out your chest where them
bullets crashin
Pine box niggas, no cruthces, no castin
No wheelchair, just a two-door long black wagon flowers
on the side and four wheels of steel
I ain't never scared, and I ain't never care
So fuck what they doin over there, I'm doin me here
You're nothin like me fuck boy don't be outlandish
We gorillas on the mix, ya'll just some Kung-Fu Pandas,
sweet like Fantas, huh
My blood is the same as Bruce Banter's, hit record on
the cameras
Mother fuck all the bullshit and antics,
They sayin he ain't gotta get a clearance from Wayne,
that's a disadvantage
Being broke is a foreign language to me like Spanish
musically,
I direct thrillers, call me John Landers
Fuck that nigga in the red jacket nigga

It's the 5-0-4 slaughterhouse bloodbath
Lil niggas stand tall like a giraffe
One man game animal, cannibal,
I eat rappers for dinner, my nickname Hannibal
Guns for days, I show you what this cannon do
Hit you and hit ya motha fuckin man in two
I grab the chopper southpaw, that’s how I hold the toy
I aim and crank that bitch like Soldier Boy
I’m in the streets one deep, I can hold my own
And shit its only one seat and I control the throne
Look bitch, I’m on my crazy ass shit
You see the gun poking out like Shanaynay’s lips
Yeah, watch ya lips when you’re talkin
Cuz I’ll be on ya grave nigga, leakin on ya coffin
Rest in piss, when I die let me rest with clips
Rambo, I’ma go on my Sylvester shit, bang!