Squash - G City Run Out
EXPLICIT

[Intro: Squash]
Shot a fire, man a holler out, "Get low!" (Get low)
Shot up your bloodclaat friend, watch you dead slow (Dead slow)
Family and relative dem a bawl say, dem miss you
Sorry, don't let go (Let go)
When G City run out
Tell dem me no play-play
Man run out with the AK
Anything at all weh me see a get spray-spray
Shot dem up, boy lay down inna clay-clay
Mobay, dem know me no fear
No, me no scare
When G City run out

[Verse 1: Squash]
Clap the Kel-Tec
.44 wheel and buss off
A no sea, me see man a chuck off
See the road youth, get the fuck off
Press up the trigger till the fire pin bruk off
Oh fuck, 3 star, get your neck cut off
Me grandfather shotgun, lift it up, dust off
(Bomboclaat)
Boy a go dead, from me buck dem inna the target
Pull up with the 'matic and make it hit a hard grip
Simple thing, buss a head down a market
Shell down your place, melt down like chocolate
Bomboclaat, can't bother with the tall clip
No, no, no
When G City run out
G City run out

[Verse 2: Squash]
Head lick the six far like a Brian Lara
Teeth a run out with the llama
Bomboclaat, right now, heart a drama
Kill the mother, the father, the daughter
G City me say, yo dawg, we gone a Sparta
If some boy feel dem brave, tell dem fi test the water
Bare Crocs, dem marrow, mango [?]
From morning me a hunt a duppy, now me bruk me ducks

[Verse 3: Daddy 1]
Hold on 'pon the trigger, nozzle kick out like a Jackie Chan
Rocket from from Pakistan, clap it 'pon the ratty van
Make boy a disappear like magician
Blood a run like the soldier weh dive off of the ratty van
Dead 'round the corner, Squash clap him and me drop the bomb
What is wrong? Drive-by inna the vaxi van
Dem think it's a taxi man
A whole lot of zootoop make me clap it 'pon
So [?], just drop the song

[Verse 1: Squash]
Clap the Kel-Tec
.44 wheel and buss off
A no sea, me see bare man a chuck off
See the road youth, get the fuck off
Press up the trigger till the fire pin bruk off
No talk
When G City run out
G City run out

[Verse 4: Squash]
Me swear to God we no fear no boy with dem face wrinkle
That we mash up like a Pringle
Murder your bloodclaat, lef' your woman really single
You shouldn't get me brain bringle
Kill a boy inna middle day, DJ Sham you want a jingle?
Dem no tek me serious true me simple
A when the Glock a kick, tThat a soccer kick
Blood a drop, a drip, run inna macka stick
Boy dead, when the Glock a tic
Fi the brand new Glock a weh me buy a chip
Fix, what a drop, a drip
With the rubber grip
Fire bare copper bloodclaat and hollow tip
Fi buss whole heap a head, dawg, you know me have the scholarship
Dem a no gangsta, dem boy deh a swallow shit
When G City run out

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