703 shooter x ghanny – ava goons lyrics
[intro: thad]
703, shooter on the beat
[verse 1: 703 shooter]
im a real shooter, shots ringin’ like bells
ain’t no fake shoota, my name not terrell
totin’ on rugas’, gon’ send em’ to h+ll
im shmokin’ on pack, sh+t sticky like snail
that mans fake shoota, yeah that mans a opp
pop out the cut, then pop at ya top
don’t want the brain, i just want the slop
totin’ that choppa, that sh+t gonna chop
[intro 2]
trap+a+holics, b+tch, like you ain’t know?
real trap sh+t
[verse 2: ghanny]
italian shooter like tony montana
this ain’t a toyota, no this is a phantom
they claim that they hoopin’, you know ima clamp em’
they stay tryna hate but they part of the fandom
yeah ghanny and shooter, we ain’t not no randoms
as soon as we posted, they pink like some salmon
like birdman and wheezy, my wrist is so gleamy
yo man wanna be me, she say i’m so sleezy
i’m rappin’ too fast, yeah two hunn’ on the the dash, the pedal to the gas, all the comp ima pass
now back to the song, yeah i’m gettin’ off track
now 703 gonna speak how you lack
[verse 3: 703 shooter]
yeah
im posted with ghanny, we up in the stu
we in ava, we four deep in a coupe
pull up on opps, lemme call up the troops, yeah you make the wrong move and pmilly gon’ shoot
703, i’m a certified goon
soon as i hop out the whip, boy ya doomed
pull out the drake, make it pop like balloon
yeah these slugs finna hit, send ya ass to the moon
i keep a toolie, i keep a stick
i keep a yoppa, that sh+t finna kick
i got six bullets for all of ya clique
run up on 7 get hit with the bl!ck
she want a gram, she ain’t talkin bout ghanny
she want the dope and i got it handy
sell her some pills, she pop molly like candy
i keep a hamma’ but i am no manny
keep that sh+t tucked, i’m not talkin’ bout tranny
my brothas fight over oxys and xannys
beg for my kids but she ain’t no nanny
i just want love, i ain’t talkin’ bout brandi
[verse 4: ghanny]
this a gold chain, no this is not no copper
my toolie a baddie so you know ima pop her
cookin’ the pack like my name betty crocker
get money likes kooks but my name isn’t topper
yeah
i don’t f+ck with no lames or we bring out the chopper, cuz fools who be bummin’ be actin’ like oppers
loyola, controlla, my money go loco, the plug got the zaza you know ima smoka’
yeah
this ain’t no gunna flow, this is the ghanny flow
hunnids’ come flowin’ in, straight in from mexico
ghanny the goon, i’m the big luciano
flippin’ the dough but no italiano
703 got the yoppa on go mode
they fleein’ the scene, they said it was a no go
switch up the rhymes, im takin’ my time
cuz’ ghanny up next, yeah i’m waitin’ in line
they said it was pay day, i know it was time, to count up the blue, not no yellow or lime
[verse 5: 703 shooter]
i grab the thooka and let that sh+t spray
i smoke the hookah about everyday
follow my shoota, he show me the way
yeah he grab a clip and he empty the k
dmv sh+t so you know it gon’ bang
shoutout my migo, he let that sh+t rain
703 and i aim for your brain
yeah you a fake shoota, yeah you is a lame
i pop a xan it gon’ cover the pain
i pop a perc and i can’t feel my brain
i send my shotta’s right up to your lane
yea i might be nice but my choppa insane
pull up with mercy, i hop out the tahoe
f+ck all the mercy, i empty the choppo
keep me a strap, yeah this semi no auto
h+lly my coat and my waist ferragamo
i get to dumpin’ out murcielago
pull out the chrome and i smoke em’ like flacko
yea you can run but these bullets gon’ follow
yea you can run but these bullets are hollow
[outro]
this is a certified hood classic
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