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One Shot Lyrics - Free Agent - Joell Ortiz

Cook 

(Yeah) 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uhh 

It's that killa crack street music 

(It's that Block Royal, Terror Squad music) 

Crack, cook 

(Joell Ortiz nigga) 

Listen 

(Nobody, what up) 

One shot, two shot, three shot, oh, oh 

That'll send him right to the morgue 

Four shot, five shot, six shot, shit, shit 

That's for the wife and the kids 

(I don't care about your money or that shit on your chest) 

Niggaz get killed for less 

(And all that shit you be talkin' man we ain't impressed) 

Niggaz get killed for less 

Whether, closed caption or high definition 

You could probably find me on that big screen, diamonds glistenin' 

Ain't this a bitch man? That's Joey from the Bronx 

And all the dirt he done, how the fuck he mix the songs nigga? 

He ain't lyin', I'm a chemist on that table 

My needle with the beige make the competition hate you 

Couple deaths on the block, now they rate you 

Lil' Dex'll pull the trigger if I say shoot 

One shot, two shot 'nother nigga down 

CSI searchin but his face can't be found nigga 

Shit is crazy on the streets of the Bronx 

Niggaz yellin' "Shots fired" but police won't respond 

Where I'm from niggaz pump that bass 

And holler at your lil' sister right in front of your face nigga 

The working man's a sucker you heard, see 

Nigga's gettin' hot for twenty years, still thirsty 

I guess they share a bond with the 'caine 

Now that's what I call rekindlin' old flames 

Get it? Who else but Coca in the Rover? 

Sports kitted, coulda been my 'ghini or my 'rossa 

Life is for the living, get a chauffeur 

Find yourself a bitch that don't mind eatin' chocha 

We spit murder, you's a victim, boy 

If that ass get flashy we'll stick ya, boy 

One shot, two shot, three shot, oh, oh 

That'll send him right to the morgue 

Four shot, five shot, six shot, shit, shit 

That's for the wife and the kids 

(I don't care about your money or that shit on your chest) 

Niggaz get killed for less 

(And all that shit you be talkin' man we ain't impressed) 

Niggaz get killed for less 

Nah, so don't die over nothin, let your lil' crew gas ya ass 

'Cause on my block I was the Doc, before aftermath 

I had that, rock in the spot the fiends had to blast 

When I, chopped it with pop and shoot past the glass 

See I really hustle homie, this ain't no fabrication 

They never called me back, I filled out many applications 

Watchin' these corny niggaz come up, that was aggravatin' 

So I hit the corner, told 'em beat it like they masturbatin' 

I tried to have the patience 

I asked God for the answers, he took too long to respond 

So I had a chat with Satan 

He told me my dreams ain't have to stay imagination 

Turned my wrecked Timbs to a stretch Benz for my graduation 

Had all the lil' sluts at my prom salivatin' 

Scooped my diploma, I'm gone but I kept on calculatin' 

Colleges holla cause every grade I had's amazin' 

It was school books or cool looks when I pass with Daytons 

Clappin' at plays or hearin' my new Magnum flamin' 

Schoolgirls or I'ma earl, look who this bastard's blazin' 

Long story short, man I had these faggots hatin' 

I'm handsome, I'm cool, I got guap and I get it crack-a-latin' 

I come from the place where you get your hood passes made in 

A brook where the only thing shook's on the stove marinatin' 

So when they say congratulations over the respect 

My pad is gainin' 

Know I ain't goin' back, I'm aimin' like 

One shot, two shot, three shot, oh, oh 

That'll send him right to the morgue 

Four shot, five shot, six shot, shit, shit 

That's for the wife and the kids 

(I don't care about your money or that shit on your chest) 

Niggaz get killed for less 

(And all that shit you be talkin' man we ain't impressed) 

Niggaz get killed for less 

Aww, that's what the fuck I'm talkin' about 

That real gangsta music, biatch 

Like that shit, you like how that shit sounds nigga 

Blat 

 

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