Lil Wayne – Shooter Lyrics

Lil Wayne – Shooter Lyrics
Shooter
Lil Wayne
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    Shooter Album Art
    "Shooter." - Lil Wayne

    Album: Tha Carter, Vol. 2 - Chopped & Screwed
    Track No: 07
    I heard some shots like down on the floor
    Now, even louder, we got shooters, shooters, shooters
    I turn around, I was staring at chrome
    Shotgun, watch his door, got security, good
    Jump right over counter, point gun at Winky, tell him
    I'm your shooter, shooter, shooter
    I'm heading, heading, heading, heading
    Hands up, my hands up, they want, they
    Want play with my hands up, no shooter
    I'm heading, heading, heading, heading
    Hands up, my hands up, they want, they
    Want play with my hands up, no shooter
    So many doubt, 'cause I come from the south
    But when I open up my mouth, all bullets come out
    So many doubt, 'cause I come from the south
    But when I open up my mouth, all bullets come out
    So many doubt, 'cause I come from the south
    But when I open up my mouth, all bullets come out, bang
    Die, bitch, ****, die, I hope you bleed a lake
    I'ma play x-ray, helping y'all see the fake
    I'm just trying to be the great, trying to get a piece of cake
    Take it off of your plate, eat it right in your face
    They got a whole lot to say, but I don't listen
    Call me automatic Weezy, bitch, I keep spittin'
    All riches, riches, and all switches, switches
    Hey, hey, no, no, no, no, sir, no
    They talking about shooters, shooters, guns, girls, ladies, guns
    Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot
    Mama, I think they think
    I think they want me to surrender
    Mama, I think they think
    Me think they want me to surrender
    To the radio stations, I'm tired of being patient
    Stop being rapper racists, region haters
    Spectators, dictators, behind door dick takers, it's outrageous
    You don't know how sick you make us
    I wanna throw up like chips in Vegas
    But this is southern, face it
    If we too simple, then y'all don't get the basics
    Think she walks into the circle, surprise (yeah)
    Dropped to her knees, ask for her life, ask for her life
    This, that bitch, is gonna get it
    Everybody gon' regret it
    I'm your shooter
    Hands up, my hands up, they want, they
    Want play with my hands up, no shooter
    Hands up, my hands up, they want, they
    Want play with my hands up, no shooter
    Socks soaking wet, I've been running, y'all, I reload
    Every hundred yards, I'm coming for her
    You better know me, Lil Wayne, just call me lord
    Hard, take pain like Tylenols, way, way past poor, far
    I'm some shit you never saw
    I take you to a shoot out, baby, win, lose, or draw
    And then they ask who, when, where, how, and
    My reply was simply, pow
    Mama, I think they think
    Me think they want me to surrender
    Mama, I think they think
    Me think they want me to surrender

    Writer(s): D. Carter, Robin Thicke, James Gass, Bobby Keys & Robert Daniels.

    All lyrical content displayed on this website is the intellectual property of its respective copyright holders. No ownership is implied, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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