Hey Shoota, Pt. 2

[Verse 1]
Baby .380 on me with a stick
Catch him in an Audi, now his name Rick
They heard he plug, We heard he a lick
Shorty was green so she getting hit
With a bottle of lint
Passed the work to him, made no assist
Baby chicken, i’m not talking bout Chic
Nigga’s hot, they be flaming like Bic
I’m off a bar, nigga feel the itch
White and red beam, no peppermint
Gloves on, so there's no fingerprint
Five or six hits, slide in a Denali
Ar on me, ima slide with a tally
She not my baby but I call her Bally
Cuz was not dead, allow me
Me and Koon gon slide in that van
I’m not a rapper nigga I ain’t change
We told him don’t talk, this the last chance
Might set the plug up for five bands
I got a plug live in Iran
50 shooters slide in five vans
Slide in that Fendi, I don’t buy Vans
He call us like “Why you kill my mans?”
Nigga I don’t care nigga
The fuck