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lp rambo - shooter dont take pics lyrics

[verse one]
i can’t decide if it’s demons or what looking at me
my mama cried she can’t see why her son never bout peace
she dont know i dont sleep cause i keep thinking bout beef
my brothers lookin’ up to me seen my lil bro play with my beam
i dont wear no tight jeans i’m gone keep tucking in my ting
even my basketball just bling i named that basketball billie jean
it’s young six im the murder king getting new guns i’m still learning things
ima overheat it i be burnin’ things, i put that p+ssy boy in surgery
you know bout what i get into you tweak this way we leave you dead
i remember in them parties drinking moonshine out the keg
you go humpty choppa dumpty, how you like your scrambled eggs?
most these motherf+ckers out here can’t even stand on they own legs
pop a perc start seeing red start shooting anyone with dreads
n+ggas helping get you up, just to push you off the ledge
lord get this evil out my head before them people feed me meds
if you ask me for some smoke put on a grin and tell him “yeah!”
out the bowl, scr+pe it clean
maybe it’s maybeline
see that boy, spray the ting cause n+ggas tried to play wit’ me
i dont f+ck with n+ggas cause them n+ggas used to hate on me
found out bro too hate on me, shake my head
[hook]
like oh you on some fake n+gga sh+t
they gone tell you bout how i be on some gravediggin sh+t
i been eating i just thought to say my grace for the sh+t
with my n+ggas we just gathered up and prayed with the stick
that’s real n+gga sh+t my shooter dont take pics
driving through the city smoking reefa needle at the end of the meter cause young veli speedin’, yeah yeah
n+gga tweaking then that glizzy speaking dont give me a reason i go demon shoot that sh+t a n+gga dead dead

[verse two]
representing for the lil’ n+ggas i ain’t with no chill n+ggas
boy my homies do not go a week and do not k!ll a n+gga
i was on my d+ck in broski house off f+ckin pills n+gga
spit that sh+t that’s real im bout to pop a f+ckin’ seal n+gga
say my name you die i dont give no f+ck about your deal n+gga
i dont really trust hoes take anything, b+tches might steal liquor
better not move a f+cking inch, we gone buss ya’ head stay still n+gga
young foolie with the f+ckin’ toolie i ain’t sweatin’ bout these lil n+ggas
free my f+ckin’ cousin he locked up for them scams, n+gga
have my other cuz’ blam n+ggas, best choice to use hands wit’ us
heard you lost who ran wit’ ya, i’d f+ckin be d+mned n+gga
hot sh+t when i land n+gga, pop right up

[hook]
like oh you on some fake n+gga sh+t
they gone tell you bout how i be on some gravediggin sh+t
i been eating i just thought to say my grace for the sh+t
with my n+ggas we just gathered up and prayed with the stick
that’s real n+gga sh+t my shooter dont take pics
driving through the city smoking reefa needle at the end of the meter cause young veli speedin’, yeah yeah
n+gga tweaking then that glizzy speaking dont give me a reason i go demon shoot that sh+t a n+gga dead dead

- lp rambo lyrics

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