Vic Mensa - 16 Shots Lyrics

Ready for the war we got our boots strapped
100 deep on State Street
Where the troops at?
The mayor lying saying he didn't see the video footage
And everybody want to know where the truth at
On the South side where it's no trauma centers, but the most trauma
A lot of cannons but you don't want no drama
I can't imagine if it was my own mama
Got her first born son stole from her, he never had a chance
And we all know its cause he black
Shot 'em 16 times, how fucked up is that?
Now the police superintendent wanna double back
Cops speeding up to the block like a runnin' back
Tension is high, man these niggas is irate
You can see it in they eyes, they wanna violate
Screaming out "Oink! Oink! Bang! Bang! Gang! Gang! Gang! Gang! Murder! Murder!"
Murder they mind state
I just made me a mil' and still militant
This ain't conscious rap, this shit ignorant
Nigga, hair trigger
Ain't no fun when the rabbit got the gun
When I cock back, police better run

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, fuck 12
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, fuck 12
16 shots
And we buckin' back
16 shots
16 shots
And we buckin' back
16 shots

They threw a little girl down on the pavement
Pushed her off the bike and said, "Stay out the way, bitch"
She was bleedin' on the ground through her braces
This is what happens when niggas don't stay in their places
The mayor duckin' when he fired the superintendent
But resignation come with bonuses and recognition
So we gon' break in the stores on Magnificent Mile
And if we gotta go, let's go to prison in style
Cops killin' kids and stayin' out of jail
But Bobby Shmurda can't even catch bail
So it's 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
Now I got everybody yellin' out, "Fuck 12"

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, fuck 12
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, fuck 12
16 shots
And we buckin' back
16 shots
16 shots
And we buckin' back
16 shots

There's a war on drugs, but the drugs keep winnin'
There's a war on guns, but the guns keep ringin'

Me and Lord got a clip with an extendo
And we rollin' with it, hangin' out the window
We on 16th ridin' by the police station
We might make a pork rind out of pig, bro
Somebody tell these mothafuckas keep they hands off me
I ain't a mothafuckin' slave, keep your chains off me
You better hope this 9 millimeter jam on me
Or get blown, I hope you got your body cam turnt on
Fuck a black cop too, that's the same fight
You got a badge, bitch, but you still ain't white
This for Laquan on sight, when you see Van Dyke
Tell him I don't bring a knife to a gunfight

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, fuck 12
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, fuck 12
16 shots
And we buckin' back
16 shots
16 shots
And we buckin' back
16 shots

There's a war on drugs, but the drugs keep winnin'
There's a war on guns, but the guns keep ringin'
Singin'

Mu-u-u-u-murderer, murderer