Got my finger on the trigger.

Everybody wants to see a G with this fame and shit

Go play the full clip for my last bullet.

Sniper will put it.

Just initial that bullet.

Homie Doug.

Cause I'm about to bust on a high speed chase.

Can't stop.

Metal to the pedal.

Wound out radio.

Got all that A1A thing.

Good to me.

Last control of the vehicle.

record hit the windshield still telling me to go like a rider I must ride hit the curb and we crashed

Lost my tire on the middle, just scraping that shit on the rim Sparks everywhere, is this my last day in this ego?

Valley, South Saudi, trying to bust reverse But the shit don't thrive, it's dead

Loaded up a full clip, blasted up a full clip Had net, one bullet, now begin to book

Snappers with a gun, snappers with a gun, snappers with a gun Got my swing on the trigger

It's about time that some real gangsters did it.

What if that shit ain't gangsta?

Then I ain't fucking with it.

I just sit back, relax, and laugh looking down from the top of my throne with my gold-fired crown.

I get so fucked and feel the fearless model.

So I hop in my car, empty the fully automatic.

Glock, keep it clip after clip, and then I go around the block, and make three more hits, cause I'm a masked outsider, with a gun that pops louder, the Pac-Town rider, infesting hoods with gunpowder, CP Milo keeps killing, but this can't fight the feeling, get a foothill pick squilling, smack that punk on the ceiling, now you can play the part, low ride, looking hard, or patrol the boulevard, in a black and white car, but you still catch my fooling, I guess I'll fuck who you are.

My finger on the trigger.

Hang on the trigger.

Hang on the trigger.

Snappers with the gun, snappers with the gun, run, run, run, run.

Black is trying to sweat, cause I tagged up my set on the wall.

Running like a motherfucker till I fall, how deep can I fall?

Runnin' through the halls Black is on my back, fuck that, I can't stop Middle finger up, south as steel, I'm the motherfuckin' top High speed chase, tryna get away

Jump over fences, hit a yard with a dog Struggling for my life, hit that puto with a log Hit the street sweeper, Pete dancing, California touchdown Sniper make this rollout for the underground Pop the steering column, finger on the trigger Smoking in my lungs, the laugh

bullet this ain't no fantasy come to the streets and you'll see hey lethal spider hey sniper on the roof

A to kill, let you take you at will

Got my finger on the trigger.

My finger on the trigger.

Nothing on the trigger.

my finger on the trigger

Yeah that's right homie, Big Southside, City of Pacas, Big Spider Sniper

The criminal is up in the spia.

That should work.

Do the wheels fall off?

PCS, yeah.

Enemigas, beware, levas.

And we out.

On the smack.