Shane "Bermy" Woodley - Squeeze 1st lyrics

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Shane "Bermy" Woodley - Squeeze 1st lyrics

[Intro]L Uh, yeah, mmmm William H. n***as Holla, yeah, yo [Hook] That's why I, squeeze first ask questions last That's how most of these so called gangstas pa** I, squeeze first ask questions last Cuz when I pull, I always pop, that's why I'm living today [Verse 1] Yo, when I meet ya, I heat ya down When I greet ya, meet ya with pound Not the handshake, but the kind that make ya demand a wake The kind that put land over your face I pop ya, let doctors stitch ya I-N-F-R-A, will not miss ya I move light, like my shoes too tight Leave n***as confused from the day to the night At night, see the light, when the pistol's sparkin Daytime it gets dark when that pistol barkin I keep cash 'case cops arrest me 'case kids kidnap me, kids could get back me You shall repent 'fore you spend a red cent If not you, somebody of close descent Thou shalt not f** with raw me, or he Face a thousand d**hs from Mr. Shawn Corey Carter, rap harder like I'm part of a cult Like Cuban cigar maker 'cept I'm hard to smoke And y'all choke motherf**ers [Hook] [Bridge x2] I said thou shalt not f** with raw me, or he Face a thousand d**hs from Mr. Shawn Correy Carter, rap harder like I'm part of a cult Like Cuban cigar maker 'cept I'm hard to smoke And y'all choke n***as [Hook] [Bridge] [Hook] [Verse 2] See when I'm low in digits, I push blow in a blizzard I'm a player for real, I post and pivot Coke distribute, be where the ghostes visit Where the demons live, sh** my scene is vivid Squeamish kids, y'all get the f** outta this verse It's about to get so obscene in a minute I seen and live it, I did some things I admit it Wasn't proud of it, but I was a child f** it Kept a pow tucked in a brown belt Couldn't sit down, big gun kept stickin my pelvis sh** it was either that or be livin wit Elvis n***as is jealous, hell is hot, you heard X Wanted to tell God that I don't deserve this Was afraid that he'd tell me I deserve less My life was nervous, you haven't heard stress Til you heard the cries of my mama, me givin her drama Told her I ain't promised tomorrow, gotta live for the day And before she could say Jay... I was out the door, pouch full of raw, a outlaw mentality Men gotta do men things for men salary Bad Boy, not Puff or Mike Lowery, damn B.I.G. woulda been proud of me Ahh sh** man... Young Hova ya heard? Who could f** wit him?

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