Vacant
Vacant

City Morgue, ZillaKami, SosMula - Vacant Lyrics

3

Vacant Lyrics

(Is that Shoki on the beat?)
(Hellsing)
(JORDY)
Woo

Got the drop on everyone at any time (okay)
Pull up, draw the shit, and I won't cross the line (okay)
They can show me anything and I'll make it mine (okay)
You can't combat me, it's past your beddy time (uh-huh)
Gun up, how the fuck you dyin' with it? (What?)
Gun up, how the fuck you dyin' with it? (What?)
Gun up, how the fuck you dyin' with it? (What?)
Gun up, how the fuck you dyin' with it? (Woo)

Y'all be disrespectful, but never in person (okay)
Livin' at your momma's house, y'all truly worthless (what?)
On the internet, you boys think y'all is perfect (huh?)
He ain't got no name, he just pull up hurtin' (wait)
Catchin' bodies, just to show him what I'm about (okay)
When it's goin' up, I make this shit go South (okay)
She might catch a stray bullet, she on the couch (okay)
No apologies, we gon' spark it out, yeah
.45 on me, ain't gon' talk it out, yeah
You can plot on me all day, ain't gon catch me out (okay)
Either way I'm safe, you can't scope me out (okay)
.45 on me, ain't gon' talk it out (woo)

Got the drop on everyone at any time (okay)
Pull up, draw the shit, and I won't cross the line (okay)
They can show me anything and I'll make it mine (okay)
You can't combat me, it's past your beddy time (uh-huh)
Gun up, how the fuck you dyin' with it? (What?)
Gun up, how the fuck you dyin' with it? (What?)
Gun up, how the fuck you dyin' with it? (What?)
Gun up, how the fuck you dyin' with it? (Woo) (ewok, ewok)

Got my gun on me, match it with my outfit (splash, splash)
Rather get caught with it, than get caught without it (doot-doot-doot-doot)
Them niggas caught me lackin', shit, I pop my brain (no-no, no-no)
Them niggas caught me lackin', they ain't got no aim (no-no, no-no)
See me up in traffic with my watch and chains (splash, splash)
Bitch, we got them sticks like a hockey game (doot-doot-doot-doot)
I got shooters on my left, shooters on my right (gimme that, gimmie that)
Rugers on left (gimme that, gimmie that)
Rugers on my right (gimme that, gimmie that, gimmie that)

Got the drop on everyone at any time (okay)
Pull up, draw the shit, and I won't cross the line (okay)
They can show me anything, and I'll make it mine (okay)
You can't combat me, it's past your beddy time (uh-huh)
Gun up, how the fuck you dyin' with it? (What?)
Gun up, how the fuck you dyin' with it? (What?)
Gun up, how the fuck you dyin' with it? (What?)
Gun up, how the fuck you dyin' with it? (Woo)

How the fuck you dyin' with it? (What?)
How the fuck you dyin- (what?)
How the fuck you dyin' with it? (What?)
How the fuck you dyin' with it?

(Good times)

Writer(s): David PointerIan Zoric, Jay Gallo, Jordan Johnson, Junius Rogers, Vinicius Sosa
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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