Shoot Game

[Intro: Julius Luciano] I got an inoperable illness, you can't doctor it Got a degree in talkin' noise, poppin' shit, Doctorate Got a struck match flow, hot shit, Tobasco Guns give you the blues, I'm Armstrong, Satchmo Luci in this bitch, nigga, yikes (x4) [Verse 1: Julius Luciano] Luci in this bitch nigga, y'all niggas bitch niggas Adhere to the program, stick to the script nigga Y'all dudes inconsistent, every season you switch Coffee dudes change colors when cream's in the mix I'm finna get rid of you insects blockin' the way It's like pesticide when them choppers'll spray It'll literally get ugly, enemy get shot in the face The minute I pop in the place, I'm clockin' my pay I get P-A-Y, no L's, no time for the play I feel like a candle cuz I get chicks to blow me and I'm on top of my cake Yeah, I never wait for green, I always ran a light I control my will and fortune, no Vanna White Fuck your chain, I'll snatch it like the silencer on my hammer like My gun knows its right to remain silent, Miranda right Never touch my dough yo, I'm stingy and I ain't carin' Spit on Ozzy Osbourne's wife because I hate sharin' Yeah, I'm the best, swingin' wood baby, Hank Aaron I ain't got no kids, I never fuck a bitch that ain't barren Wave pool shit, yea your boy's flow is movin' you Leave you niggas missin', no corpse at your funeral Fire you at your job, I mean torch to your cubicle I'll be in your veins, no 4th Roman numeral [Hook: Julius Luciano] Shoot game nigga, my crew way iller Got a bad ass chick and you can't get her And I keep a .44, my blue flame spitta That's my Jerry West pistol, I shoot game nigga I'm a shoot game nigga, my crew way iller Got a bad ass bitch and you can't get her And I keep a .44, my blue flame spitta That's my Jerry West pistol, I shoot game nigga [Verse 2: Kenny] Yo, it's Kenny Siegel my nigga, dubs up And of course I'm high, so I'm what's up Might see me racin' in the Lam' like I'm on the LAM, push Or in your bushes in the A.M., ambush I'll spit a 16 if you don't think this shits mean You can sit opposite of my inf beam or you can lick my dick clean And I never beg but bitch please, I'm your worst nightmare, but your bitch dreams Stickin' that bride in her room, diggin' and drillin' inside of her womb Sippin' and poppin' a brew, feelin' like I'm at the tippity-top of the roof I'm high and fly, feelin' like I'm fixin' to fly to the moon If you ain't talkin' no loot, your words just sound like bippity-boppity boo I'll lay a nigga on his back like loose tramps Then put him in his trunk like new amps I train heavy everyday like this bootcamp You motherfuckers too light like deuce lamps Of course I'm always in the hood like food stamps Recordin' shockin' shit like news cams Pissed off like I'm down to my last 2 grams And motherfuck a pig, though that dude's ham I'm hard as a pillow at Barney Rubbles I'm hard enough to make metal look soft and supple I'm in love with my gun, me and my larkin' snuggle We talk and cuddle, she loud so her bark is muffled [Hook: Julius Luciano]