Billie Jean ft. Blessful Lyrics

Everything dead

Uh, everything shot

Boom

Look, I got a blick

One shot, two shots, won't miss

Third one gon' hit

Billie Jean slide right on my hip

Pop out after that, we dip

Roll out with 30 in the clip

Now there's blood on the scene

Face shots is making him lean

Uh, yeah I said it

If a nigga want smoke, I'll address it

If he say he want beef, then I'll dead it

Slide with the gang, he gon' need paramedics

Put that boy on the stretcher

Put his face on the shirt, I'ma let you

Say he talkin' to God, I'ma send him

Man down, I got blood on my denims

On, on your top. If I see him, I'm gon' make it hot

I told Brody, go bring out the mop

Yeah, I got a .40, ain't callin' no cops

You get shot

We gon' spin on your block at the drop

Raining hell and we never gon' stop

Gun on my waist know I'm ready to pop

Whoa

Giving smoke

Spray your gang, then we laugh, it's a joke

Get your bitch cuz she doin' the most

Let me fuck, let me grab on her throat

Uh, I'ma goat

Got a beam on the glock with a scope

She a fiend for the cock on the low

I'm smokin' a pack while she screamin' for more

Uh, she be wildin'

Know she made for the streets and she triflin'

Let me nut on her face while she smilin'

After I'm done, I get back to the violence

Back to Drillin'

We gon' slide on your block get to killin'

We gon' blow his ass up like he Krillin

Up in the sky, we turn one into millions

Uh, like I'm Frieza

Make a pack and we smokin' on reefer

Double cuppin', I'm sippin' Wockesha

Uppin' the 40 he sing like Selena

Uh, if he buggin', I'm bussin'

No time for discussion

I'm uppin' the pole, and I'm leavin' him dead

No point if you runnin', you know that we comin'

I'm uppin' the beam at the back of his head

Blow his top back

Put a bounty on him, know we got that

Like a hitman, do a quick scan

Then I'm crossin' his life off the notepad

Then we dash, hear the police sirens

Watch em' flash

I told Brody to step on the gas

Just caught a body, don't make it the last

Bobbin' and weavin', I hope he don't crash

And I'm really on ten, put a dot on his face

Ain't no making amends

Smith and Wesson or Glock 42 it depends

If he bluffin' I'm up in the beam at his friends

Ain't no mask niggas knowing who did it

Lord forgive me I know I been sinnin'

Had to do it its part of my mission

So many bodies I hope I'm forgiven

Boom

Ahh