Shootout

[Intro]
I remember being 17
Walkin' home from the studio it was midnight, something ain't really sit right
African girl screamin' "don't walk further, there's been a murder!"
Looked left to a man screamin' for dear life
Would've probably went to help him if I feared Christ
But I was scared of the consequences
Or the cops to see me and be thinking' that i done did it
Did it like the streets always told me and mind my business
Another shootout!

[Chorus]
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)

[Verse 1]
Seen two black hoodies run through the alleyway
But this was in the summertime and it was scorching
Two cop cars pulled on my small block, woke me in shock, threw on the sirens that they filled up my living room and porch with
Walked outside to an ambulance and the ambiance of a dead spirit
The transience of a man who's missed and intense swearing
A woman on the roof with a baby and younger daughter banging' on the windows, mourning over her husband's slaughter
I look around at the gathering of the neighbors, gossiping, interacting
Crackhead babblin' how "savages killing strangers"
Screaming' at the cops, exaggerating' her anger
Lady with the baby and daughter complainin' aloud "they came in my house!"
The bedroom window the only way of saving her child
Hyperventilatin', impatient, remaining in doubt, that her husband wasn't making' it out
O.G. that I knew since I was a young' was only a couple houses down
Tried to stay in the game and stumbled out of bounds
Hearts drop as we watch them playing the waiting game, seeing' they in pain
More than an hour passed and they pulled out a body bag
The sound of her agony filled the air as a trolley passed
I looked in the face of his younger daughter and saw the last, innocence of nothing bein' the same without her dad

[Pre-Chorus]
That's why I don't have fun
How could we go get drunk?
Look around at all we done
Look around at all we done
So that's why I don't have fun
How could we go get drunk?
Look around at all we done
My first cup of drink was red rum
Shootout!

[Chorus]
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)

[Verse 2]
"If you can't swim, you bound to drizown"
Doing petty crimes like stealin' a dead Sprint phone
One slip, run in ya whip like Fred Flintstone
All a nigga life, been judgin' me by my skin tone
You should read my essays, a month before I graduated
'bout the government and how the masters from the past was racists
Teachers aggravated, mad I made it but they had to grade it
Agitated 'cause I know enough to get assassinated
I should probably chill on exposing all of they bad secrets
'Fore the government try to smother me for my brash speakin'
Creep through the city and give me that plastic bag treatment
(unclear mumbles)
Percocet poppin' or copping up on Suboxen
They poppin' up with a problem, we line 'em up and we chop 'em
Tryna get my people to chill, be very patient
But they rather kill, reach for the steel like Gary Payton
Scary anxious, all this killing been out of order
Everyday we lookin' at life it's getting shorter

[Bucky Raw]:
"My auntie she was 8 months pregnant and got slaughtered
Crossing the Ivory Coast border, rest in peace to her daughter
Could've been named Beatrice, southwest african savage,"

[Shawn Smith]:
Let my nigga Buck Raw tell it, kinda sad
They thinking when they get money they'll get rid of the beef
New balances in your bank won't put an end to the sneaks
You done masked up, did dirt for loot and the base
Never knowin' that you roll with a group full of snakes
You got ten 17's at the stoop of ya place and it ain't all gucci now they got the scoop on your face
It's a kid in the window watching it all go down
Terrified of the outcome
Traumatized from seein' ya death but his safety is what's best
He know he gotta keep his mouth shut
It's just another shootout

[Bridge]:
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)
Blat blat blat blat blat blat, (shootout!)

[Hook]