a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

z (of firing squad) - grab his banger lyrics

[verse 1: z]
bang bang bang banger on his lap
is that sh+t faithful from the get+go? (yeah)
so drunk he pulling pistols on his kinfolk like he’s skitzo (d+mn)
please excuse the info
z was never tied to tip+toe
cause he did the sh+t he spit for when if you feel it he gon’ get gold (go get it)
brain brain giant antic
when i’m ramping through these track releases
so sick he talk trash diseases and spaz out right after drinking brainsick (brain)
i know i’m wrong sometimes (sometimes)
but my limiter on my “give a f+ck man” it’s gone sometimes
i’m all that’s left
sinner with a pinner and a pint of this cuervo come walk with me (c’mon)
come talk with me and see heavens skies and hear the devil cry his philosophies (hahah)
posted like photography
with a banger and his d+ckey creased
cause these peasies all trapeze at ease
and my preference skis is a hundred feet
pit+bulls by the doolie
and my toolie that like to sit with me (c’mon man)
but i’m simple business and my temper feeding’s a simple matter of sh+t you speak
a mixtape a week and i eat these beats while i load my piece
to make sure these powders burn, releases at least six teamers of monster cheese (ugh)
you wanna speak on z but won’t see me from the shoulders, please
i couldn’t clean, febreze
these streets is hectic ain’t it g? (ain’t it?)
i smoke the dankest weed, so pray for me cause i’m a dying breed
posted with a banger and a bulletproof vest on my chest to protect this life for me
[chorus: z]
somebody grab the pistol out his hand before he let it go
he been drinking out the bottle (he’s been drinking out the bottle)
somebody grab the pistol out his hand before he let it go
he been drinking out the bottle (he’s been drinking out the bottle)

[bridge: z]
his brain, brain
f+cked up
his brain, brain (he’s been drinking out the bottle)
f+cked up
his brain, brain
f+cked up
his brain, brain (he’s been drinking out the bottle)
f+cked up

[verse 2: z]
alcoholic talk with a strap in his hand
i don’t know what’s wrong with me, i’m trynna calm down (what?)
someone get the thang ‘fore the boy flip out
i bought the jóse bottle with at least six rounds
my heart is kind but my veins is pumping this pinnacle (d+mn)
so i give it to the hoods, steal the strap or should i go put the drink in the trances of life with hookah
i spark this buddha and sit on gouda cause i’m a product mover (push it)
so naturally i’m paranoid with a stereo spark arson shooter
all that i could do was offer oosa my apologies, but that’s worth the p++per
so i guess i’m cool with just trynna hang the noose
i got my pride too super, look i could truce up (man)
because my preference is a pistol in my backpack
and the glass sack of that skunk ass
and i drink it ’til i’m rude chat (rude chat)
insomniac, who bombing tracks in the booth until the drool splat (blah)
and put sacks where the tray slaps but i sold, have to pay my fans back (really though)
high+school flew away
allegiant air with no comeback (f+ck)
one man with no thumbtack if it weren’t too grown for the runback (i know)
hopefully god save me cause the devil here with the contract (i’mma sign it)
splatter in the face if you close to the contact
put down the strap and pick up this ground sack
[chorus: z]
somebody grab the pistol out his hand before he let it go
he been drinking out the bottle (he’s been drinking out the bottle)
somebody grab the pistol out his hand before he let it go
he been drinking out the bottle (he’s been drinking out the bottle)

[bridge: z]
his brain, brain
f+cked up
his brain, brain (he’s been drinking out the bottle)
f+cked up
his brain, brain
f+cked up
his brain, brain (he’s been drinking out the bottle)
f+cked up

- z of firing squad lyrics

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