King Von - Straight To It (with Lyrics & Subtitles)
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King Von - Straight To It (en) Lyrics
by RentAnAdviser.com
Let's get straight to
it (Straight to it)
Ain't tryna talk, let's
do it (Let's do it)
Nigga play crazy in this bitch,
we shootin' (We shoot)
The opps be sick, they
losin' (Boom, boom)
All these guns we got, we
use 'em (We use 'em)
He got caught, that boy
was stupid (He stupid)
Gun got dirty, hurry up, get
a new one (Get a new one)
Nigga, you don't wanna get
into it (Nah, nah)
I was a shorty, I was
poppin' out early
I was outside slidin' with the
Glock .9 (With the Glock .9)
Catch him goin' to school, it's the
right time (It's the right time)
If a nigga don't front your move,
better pipe down (Grrah, grrah)
Pop me a pill then I bite down
Six-Double-O, real shit, free BiteDown
Catch a nigga lackin' then
we shootin' on sight now
He got caught, now he Can'tGetRight
now (Boom, boom, boom)
If they come outside and tryna
post up then we gon' spin
they shit (Spin, spin)
We gon' hit they block with a
whole hundred shots (Grrah)
No matter how deep they
is (Get in, get in)
I shoot, niggas don't shoot,
no kizzy (Uh-huh)
He cheatin', it's gettin'
real (Damn, damn)
Somethin' wrong, that boy
can't miss (Uh-huh)
Get caught, I plead the fifth
(Boom, boom, boom)
I said that was my last time the last
time but I still slid (I did)
He said he was gon' kill
me and my homies
Look, now he real dead
(Now he dead, dead)
When them niggas die, we
don't feel bad (Uh-huh)
We get 'em real mad (Yeah, yeah)
Get up on live, make him
real mad (Grrah, grrah)
'Cause we want him real bad
(Grrah, grrah, grrah)
Got a whole thirty clip for him, uh
You better watch how you get, 'cause
shit can get lit for him, uh
When I show him this huh, lil'
brodie gon' deep on him, uh
I'ma do what I want, ain't
no guessin' Fivi'
Got the forty cali' in
my jacket proudly
Boy, I had to build it
then I had to lob it
You ain't did the shootin'
then don't jack about it
Them niggas fakin' the funk, I post
what I like and I say what I want
I'm smokin' on opps, I don't
play with no blunts
I send 'em on drills, and
he ate for the month
You catchin' bodies and
I'm payin' 'em a bunch
I still get charges 'cause
I give him the gun
So many shots 'cause I hit his guts
I love my shooter 'cause
he ain't give a fuck
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