teejay3k – murda season lyrics
[verse 1: teejay3k & shootergang kony]
f+ck the ps i brought the gang in this b+tch
you a opp you can’t hang in this b+tch
i can’t hit her in the house then i take her to the back seat
d+ck doing damage got her running like a track+meet
shawty wanna f+ck on a dawn
she like all these tats on my arms
i gotta keep a .40 cause they know i’m the one
put a n+gga in the plastic with a choppa send him above
when i’m done you hear a fooley when we spinning on my son
we got drums up n+ggas wanted smoke without the lungs
he got gleeky for the law
i still strip him for that gun i make him run
ain’t no time to get your pistol out the trunk
all your n+ggas leakin all my partners on the run
how you call it beefin but when you see me you on run
f+ck the ps b+tch it’s beef i want everybody deceased
send my shooter your block it get surgical by me
took them golds out my mouth and put them diamonds in my t++th
when that pack touchdown get it gone in a week
b+tch my mama raised a boss i ain’t goin’ for defeat
and that b+tch ain’t your b+tch boy she owned by the streets
got my bands in my pocket on exceder al
got these freak b+tches tagging on my ethical
i brought that drum dummy thought that it was h+lluva
that n+gga thought he had a friend until we set him up
old n+ggas talking tell them go and put their medals up
no telling us mozzy chain looking like the yellow bus
old park baby he ain’t knowin’ that it’s h+ll of us
boy don’t even shoot em if we k!ll him they gon’ tell on us
[chorus: teejay3k & shootergang kony]
it’s that season, murder season
give me a reason just to call up them demons
i been fiendin’, brought my beam in
pockets peter griffin left the show and pulled up cleveland
little freak b+tches wanna f+ck me on the weekend
b+tch i’m from the trenches say you love when i’m leaving
they told me, “stay up out that water” b+tch i dove in the deep end
run up me choppa get to singing like the weekend
[verse 2: shootergang kony & teejay3k]
run up on me choppa leave a n+gga on his back
hit the wrong n+gga still add him to my stash
try to give a shooter he shot first then i relapsed
don’t need to tell you where i’m at i’m at the murders at the trap
do my dougie on that broke b+tch
i don’t want no kiss
she tried to take my condom off i almost socked her in the lip
pocket full of blues i got confused i ain’t a crip
me and teejay in this b+tch you better ask if you can kick
i was really road running yeah my shoes scuffed up
don’t give a f+ck about your man don’t get lil dude f+cked up
might hit up king ralph to get my jewels bussed up
he don’t see it i got on me got my tool tucked up
b+tch i’m k got a pocket full of dead guys
high as h+ll you can tell by my red eyes
pop a pill smoking meds get me through the pain
get to tweaking go to shooting like the shooter game
[chorus: teejay3k & shootergang kony]
it’s that season, murder season
give me a reason just to call up them demons
i been fiendin’, brought my beam in
pockets peter griffin left the show and pulled up cleveland
little freak b+tches wanna f+ck me on the weekend
b+tch i’m from the trenches say you love when i’m leaving
they told me, “stay up out that water” b+tch i dove in the deep end
run up me choppa get to singing like the weekend
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