Who shot ya by Killa Kyleon Lyrics
Run it
Yeah
Check 1-2 what it do
Hey
Killa
Chorus:
Who shot ya got
Got ya passenger window lookin pasta
You on the driver side looking rasta
Twisted
Martin Luther king day, y'all niggas history
Real niggas want fake zero, that’s a victory
But I ain't playin soccer
Im hoping out with the chopper, I'm playing doctor brain surgeon when I pop ya
Not a rocker but that heavy metal on me
They turn wives to widows, I leave ya bitches lonely
Picture perfect I spittin it like a painter
Till im famous famous, no tissue paper I act an anus
Money talking thats my language I bring it on like Christina
Till I see a million like christina
Middle finger to ya haters, ya molars can hold a penis
Im with a clinga, boppa, Latina, thick as Serena, keep a ?
Ringa fingers
I can fuck a dime even if you got a ?
Sell a bitch swag life you can’t fuck with mine
I keep a hater face like they just sucked a lime
Paper over pussy ?
You either fuck or grind, so I made up my mind imma grind
Its a must that I plus and never minus time money so im fucking that clock like a vagina
Its your heinous slay back on that butta like a recliner grind till I find dollar you dip, but imma shine em
Diamonds on that wood wheel when Im training burnin that OG
Yeah im in Harris county or in cali like im in OC
Money never sleep meet me there I put in OT
Till a nigga see sudden death like im in OT
Till the reaper take me out the game im fly
They gone need TSA to take me out the plane
First class killa, yeah im coaching like coaches
I see money through my Louies, your lenses broken in ya Oakleys
Blessed to be real runnit, I spit hymns diamond in the rough you can say I spit gems
This is why im hot like mims
All got a nigga tardy for the party like him
Chorus x 2
Who shot ya got
Got ya passenger window lookin pasta
You on the driver side looking rasta
Twisted
Martin Luther king day, y'all niggas history
Real niggas want fake zero, that's a victory
Yeah
Check 1-2 what it do
Hey
Killa
Chorus:
Who shot ya got
Got ya passenger window lookin pasta
You on the driver side looking rasta
Twisted
Martin Luther king day, y'all niggas history
Real niggas want fake zero, that’s a victory
But I ain't playin soccer
Im hoping out with the chopper, I'm playing doctor brain surgeon when I pop ya
Not a rocker but that heavy metal on me
They turn wives to widows, I leave ya bitches lonely
Picture perfect I spittin it like a painter
Till im famous famous, no tissue paper I act an anus
Money talking thats my language I bring it on like Christina
Till I see a million like christina
Middle finger to ya haters, ya molars can hold a penis
Im with a clinga, boppa, Latina, thick as Serena, keep a ?
Ringa fingers
I can fuck a dime even if you got a ?
Sell a bitch swag life you can’t fuck with mine
I keep a hater face like they just sucked a lime
Paper over pussy ?
You either fuck or grind, so I made up my mind imma grind
Its a must that I plus and never minus time money so im fucking that clock like a vagina
Its your heinous slay back on that butta like a recliner grind till I find dollar you dip, but imma shine em
Diamonds on that wood wheel when Im training burnin that OG
Yeah im in Harris county or in cali like im in OC
Money never sleep meet me there I put in OT
Till a nigga see sudden death like im in OT
Till the reaper take me out the game im fly
They gone need TSA to take me out the plane
First class killa, yeah im coaching like coaches
I see money through my Louies, your lenses broken in ya Oakleys
Blessed to be real runnit, I spit hymns diamond in the rough you can say I spit gems
This is why im hot like mims
All got a nigga tardy for the party like him
Chorus x 2
Who shot ya got
Got ya passenger window lookin pasta
You on the driver side looking rasta
Twisted
Martin Luther king day, y'all niggas history
Real niggas want fake zero, that's a victory