Lyrics to Baw Baw
That's my shooter, I recruited him
Glock-23, got two of them (808 Mafia)
Yeah, this that murder music
That's my shooter, I recruited him
Glock-23, got two of them
Cross in his face, that mean two of them (He got body bags)
I drop a bag, watch what he do to him
Chicka-baow-baow, knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock the block right off
This shit is bang bang, a blood stain, Amiri gang
Wear 'bout fifty chains, check my ice, might be the name
You can't hit a stain, may young Skuba hit your mane
We shake shit like tambourines, the chopper clap like round of applause
Bitch, I don't need no aim, and we gon' knock a nigga off
Say I been through hell and back with my Kel-Tec in this Hellcat
I keep my F&N, that's my lie detector, I can smell rats
It ain't no help for him, y'all gon' die together, take a dirt nap
That's my shooter, I recruited him
Glock-23, got two of them
Cross in his face, that mean two of them (He got body bags)
I drop a bag, watch what he do to him
Chicka-baow-baow, knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock the block right off
Yeah, burn him like a stripper, send a nigga to the doctor
Not talkin' 'bout a butcher when I say I got a chopper
All my niggas killers, you can tell by they posture
I'ma spill a nigga's noodles like I waste a bowl of pasta
Murder make me happy, told my mama not to judge me
Keep a dirty Harry just in case you feeling lucky
Body after body, killin' shit like Ted Bundy
Shoot him in the face, make a pretty boy ugly
That's my shooter, I recruited him
Glock-23, got two of them
Cross in his face, that mean two of them (He got body bags)
I drop a bag, watch what he do to him
Chicka-baow-baow, knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock the block right off
808 Mafia
Glock-23, got two of them (808 Mafia)
Yeah, this that murder music
That's my shooter, I recruited him
Glock-23, got two of them
Cross in his face, that mean two of them (He got body bags)
I drop a bag, watch what he do to him
Chicka-baow-baow, knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock the block right off
This shit is bang bang, a blood stain, Amiri gang
Wear 'bout fifty chains, check my ice, might be the name
You can't hit a stain, may young Skuba hit your mane
We shake shit like tambourines, the chopper clap like round of applause
Bitch, I don't need no aim, and we gon' knock a nigga off
Say I been through hell and back with my Kel-Tec in this Hellcat
I keep my F&N, that's my lie detector, I can smell rats
It ain't no help for him, y'all gon' die together, take a dirt nap
That's my shooter, I recruited him
Glock-23, got two of them
Cross in his face, that mean two of them (He got body bags)
I drop a bag, watch what he do to him
Chicka-baow-baow, knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock the block right off
Yeah, burn him like a stripper, send a nigga to the doctor
Not talkin' 'bout a butcher when I say I got a chopper
All my niggas killers, you can tell by they posture
I'ma spill a nigga's noodles like I waste a bowl of pasta
Murder make me happy, told my mama not to judge me
Keep a dirty Harry just in case you feeling lucky
Body after body, killin' shit like Ted Bundy
Shoot him in the face, make a pretty boy ugly
That's my shooter, I recruited him
Glock-23, got two of them
Cross in his face, that mean two of them (He got body bags)
I drop a bag, watch what he do to him
Chicka-baow-baow, knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock your block right off
Chicka-baow-baow, I knock the block right off
808 Mafia
