Killshot - DJ Seinfeld

I could get a kill-shot running

But you might not love it

Run to the cops no telling

But your heads still buzzing

Running in and out give me five

When I pull up no one else has arrived

Flicking on the tv when you cry

We could chain my heals to your dirt bike

Drive over son and make him fuck your brains out

Fuck your brains out

So

Running down the pieces in the sand

Wondering if you’re ever getting back

Wondering if they’re ever getting home

Home

So go

How you making love if you’re her dad

Nothings evr been here in the sand

Now I’m gtting higher than the band

Played with your food for the last 3 summers

Kicked off the roof tryna aim like gunners

Popped off a few on the hillside

Coughed up a rock in my throat so hard

Throwing up blood all over the yard

Running round shooting my guns, yeah I’m over paid