Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Wilbert T Robinson
Songwriter
Lyrics
A shooting pistol
A milli really tell me whats the issue
Foes we running through em
Soft like they made of tissue
It aint a issue longs we get them big bills
Homie im the big deal
Horny make ya chick feel
You know the deal
My niggaz tell you i been the best
Your boy well connected like you surfing the internet
Hometown asking em
How do i do this
If it wasnt for this here
With no purpose you useless
So push hard
Rid of work on the strip fast
Doing all the pitching
More assists than kid has
They say i do this rap thing to try to get rich
Thats true but trying to do more
Than put ice on the wrist so holla
Take this game
Ima cook up the thing
Now killing it get with the program
Gotta bully this kid
Your boy right handed
But put in work with the left hand
For that cash do more stretching out than wristband
When theres beef know im ready to cock mine
While looking for a deal
Put your name on the dotted line
Look homie got a lotta lines
The game just start running it
Like dizzy dean aint bragging if you done it
Punk listen
He front the pump will lift em
Been ill arms cocked throwing em windmills
You got work
I want half dont care if its too much
If its a problem
Then i tell em is we beefing or what
Your girl need a helping hand
Might give her a holla
If i dig her broads get to clearing out like a team roster
Busy man god dealt me this wicked hand
When letting off the shots fired
Sink in like quicksand
A shooting pistol
A milli really tell me whats the issue
Foes we running through em
Soft like they made of tissue
It aint a issue longs we get them big bills
Homie im the big deal
Horny make ya chick feel
Go retarded youngin this a house party
Got the homies here want beef then we can get it started
Get to balling
Amounts of cash big im on it
If its a race shake and bake
Do the ricky bobby
Need to give it a rest
Bars dope raw like that coke
Tucked up under your girl breast
Step to me dog it aint even worth it
Leaving you broke
That ass need more help than a temp service
You twenty pound dumbbells
So get to lifting em
Colors get to fading like cars with dark tints on em
Niggaz in the game
Team up im yall problem
This a harvest
Get to picking need a new target
Your boy here been ready spit
You try to walk in my shoes
Get put in a ditch
You small time and me
Im talking big business
When you rap it sound sort of like a bitch singing
Man im a certified convict
Been hot since my first sixteen
You hardly put time in
By the years end
Going to see what im worth
It sucks not to be on top
I know the feeling it hurts
So you put out that hard this lick man
Quick them knees buckling
How you walk with no limbs man
The game mine long term ima stretch it
You niggaz couldnt take over
If i left like jay left it
Them goons quick to put your sneaks on lean
For that bread
Yes he going lean so lean
Bring it to a bastard who want it
And save them threats
Cause look dog i dont care who you run with
A shooting pistol
A milli really tell me whats the issue
Foes we running through em
Soft like they made of tissue
It aint a issue longs we get them big bills
Homie im the big deal
Horny make ya chick feel
Go retarded youngin this a house party
Got the homies here want beef then we can get it started
Get to balling
Amounts of cash big im on it
If its a race shake and bake
Do the ricky bobby
Writer(s): Wilbert Robinson
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