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Artist: Royce Da 5'9" f/ Smoke DZA
Album:  Tabernacle: Trust the Shooter
Song:   Trust the Shooter
Typed by: 

{"DJ Pain 1"}

[Interlude: Royce Da 5'9"]
Long live the one who got the gun in his hand with his own plan
Long live the grown man with no gun but still he knows the land
Long live the one truest, death to the one foolish
Long live the one who ain't gon' say shit, he just gon' come bump into you
Death to the man who loves himself less than he loves his fuckin jewelry
Long live the man who gon' be the street judge and the fuckin jury
Nothin brings a nigga to his senses like a fuckin bustin Ruger
I don't give a fuck who he is, trust the fuckin shooter

[Chorus: Royce Da 5'9"]
So many flows, so many flows, so many flows
Niggaz close so many, so so many, so many do's
Nothin brings a nigga to his senses like a fuckin bustin Ruger
The rabbit got the gun now nigga, trust the fuckin shooter

[Royce Da 5'9"]
Uhh, nigga I'm focused like a muh'fucker
Niggaz with me loc'n like a muh'fucker, pistol barrel's smokin like a muh'fucker
When we'll rogue shit we'll Chip and Dale your whole clique
we'll put you where your folks is
Nigga shoutout to GD's, and Chiraq, I rock with the D's G's
on the car lot like "Keys please"
And anywhere you hope to be is hopeless cause we in there posted like a muh'fucker
Shoot the funeral up, to the pulpit, podium, obiturary smokin like a muh'fucker
Y'all emotional gangsters, 2016 emo G's
Millennials, from the mean streets of beefin through memes, tweets and emojis
And blogs, sleep on me, I'ma see to it y'all see mo' Z's
When there's beef I don't call niggaz
niggaz call me and when they call, call the police!
If he ain't grow up wit us we'd John Doe 'em
we'll John Doe a nigga quick
Leave his frame tore up, shit, even Jane Doe her if she wit him
Jane Doe a nigga bitch!
But I ain't aim for her though, gun powder and cocaina for my Cane Corso
I came into your home, opening fo'-fo's
Even though I came in full clothes, death in the air got me layin mo' low
You could pay for protection, whoever you with when you disrespect payin for it though
The Lord is my shepherd, all the people is sheep, call me the anchor
I come from the bottom, I'm deep when I speak
on the violence reportin the evil I see/sea
I know what you thinkin, "Here we go
another song about a nigga who got a gun" but it's not
It's a song about a nigga who don't got a gun gettin shot!


[Smoke DZA]
Uh, trust the fuckin shooter
Uhh, 'fore you back out make maneuvers
Seen this shit happen a million times
Uhh, right

Long live all the hustlers that come and cop with straight cash
Long live all the plugs that show love but still got class
Death to the ones get it on their arm and run off with cash
Long live all the goons who get half just to find they ass
Line your fast - you could never let a minor pass rapidly
Long nose stink, sneeze at you, you know the nigga sinus bad
Ten nine, you never mind the rag
I sit and wonder how much mind you have, long flight, had the time to lag
I came from 'cross the road to cross the globe
to off the load to get all kinds of bags
Proceed, you know when I go I O.D.
Me and my Co-D, like Orenthal and A.C.
Roll a Fonto, got the Bronco lit, uhh fo'-fifth
One fo'-fifth, seatbelt strap, eyes focused


[Chorus] - last line minus "trust the fuckin shooter"