Papoose

Papoose - Shot Caller lyrics

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[Intro:]
This is the remix
Papoose...
I killed the Otis beat by myself, I didn't need no help
I'm the champ in New York, I don't need no belt
You tryin' to be a gangsta, you should free yourself
Cause when you look up in that mirror you gonna see 
yourself
She want a top baller, shot caller, you a cop caller
While your money got shorter mines got a lot taller
She gave me her number, I did not call her
Cause she got some messed up feet, put some socks on 
her
Think you got a hot corner, I carry block warmers
That's word to my daughter, niggas follow my order
Flaunt it paw, you be here today and be gone tomorro'
I shoot the car, turn the superstar to a photo star
You never know when you gonna get locked on them 
corners paw
In case I see central booking I keep me a calling card
Shit it real, I'm from down the hill like Lauren paw
I catch you slippin' I'm going to back you down for 
that Audemars
Hip Hop music, the love of my life
Every word crystal clear, motherfucker I'm nice
If you see me on the stage, we nothin' a like
You sound like a officer, you be cuffin' the mic
How you gonna tell me I' wrong if I leave something 
bloody
If I ask them for my money and he say what money
No hesitation I'm a off him
Cause you suppose to answer a question with a answer, 
not with another question
He don't pay it, beat the bread out him
Stomp him 'till I got red on my shoes, now that's what 
I call red bottom
They dropped the case on Dominique Strauss Kahn
Is it cause the case weak or his money strong
Casey Anthony acquitted, but she killed her baby
Moammar Gadhafi, they labeled him crazy
He gave Farrakhan 5 million in the eighties
That's a major contribution to the black babies
Niggas used to get money on ever corner
Now you see em on the highway selling water
They say the got Saddam 'casue he cause terror
But I say they did the same thing to Noriega
He used to work for them snakes as a dope seller
Guess who robbin' us all blind, the Rockefellers
Earthquake in New York, feel the tremors
H-A-A-R-P, be more clever
I'm a articulate, smart lyricist, arch nemesis
Y'all witnesses, all witness, the God killin' this
Hard livin' is God given, for y'all privileges
Enough shots for all y'all, I'm bartendin' this
Y'all kiddin' when y'all spit them boring sentences
Your lost image is all timid, you talk gibberish
Understand why Gary Coleman gonna Todd Bridges this
What the fuck you talkin' bout Willis, pure ignorance
Y'all snitches meet long pistols, is y'all listening
Y'all snitches is forbidden from all premises
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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