J.R. Writer
J.R. Writer - Cover Shot lyrics
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[JR Writer:] Uhh uhh, okay Let's get at 'em man, W-B 4, uhh (woo~!) My fifth's on cock, so piss off ock So kick on rocks, I lick off shots that pick off - cops My whip all drop to piss on blocks Jerry Springer ain't seen this many ripped off tops Watch, the kid go pop and shit don't stop I get those chopped, cripsy them my Diplo socks Ha ha, I'm just so hot, your kid go flop Third week I make 400 thou' just off Koch Watch, me get off yachts, or shift on stop You lil' hooligans can never fill the big bro slot Big ol' glock, stashed up in that big ol' spot (where) Right across from the lake where the ship gon' dock This ship don't clock, my strip on lock, kick on knot Drivin through bangin out that big Porsche box Look, you lil' queers puzzle who ain't never near double (never) Flip what, shit, you don't even ear hustle A merry wheel of muscle, uptown, downtown Out of town, around town, I put you where the ground's brown (6 feet) We the livest dog, you better abide your boss In your ride of course, fuck if you a thug or not (fuck you) I'm from a gutter block, you will get your mother popped Infrared at your head, let me see you duck the dot All in front of the mag, and I don't mean the cover shot [Fred Money:] Blaow! It's too late for your will My goons like sharks, they can't wait for a kill Catch you makin moves, then I make you move steel Underground like where they find them old movie reels Doggie dog chill, you ain't seein no mills Your neck turnin green cause your ice ain't real Ballin, so don't get thrown like these bills My bird in the bucket have that Mo' on chill Stainless steel, the youngest in my whole crew Always on known stoops or hoppin out foreign coupes Got my watch and I wave it out the sunroof Just showin haters that I shine like the sun do Some do, shine but not like this one do Stacks in my pockets, makin 'em look dumb hues Tried to tell 'em that they fuckin with a lit fuse Mission Impossible, and you ain't Tom Cruise Nigga~!