[Intro]
Mic check Ali
The mic don't sound right
Even the shooters can get shot, get shot quick
Even the shooters can get shot (Ali get it right)
Even the shooters can get shot, get shot quick
Even the shooters can get shot
Uhh
[Verse 1]
Tell em I got plenty arson to sell em
Heat by the fleet displaying it very seldomly
I write till I ignite my cerebellum
Close to the pen like I had 3 felons
Come from a city where niggas show no remorse
And a corpse is just another hommy taking it's course
Of course my dream was to play in the Final Four
Till the twelfth grade came and I was only 5'4
So now I'm a graduate looking to get hired
My pops knew a security job he inquired
But ignorance is bliss, that's what I was told
I stopped, dropped and rolled when somebody yelled fired
Now there goes another black boy unemployed
With a lot of free time which means he's vulnerable to run into a lot of crime
I wrote it in my rhymes
And when I left the porch this is what I realized
(Chorus)
Even the shooters can get shot, get shot quick
Even the shooters can get shot (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Even the shooters can get shot, get shot quick
Even the shooters can get shot (yeah, yeah, yeah, wassup?)
These streets ain't none to play with
It could get outrageous
Got burners, .45's and gauges
That could really get outrageous
[Verse 2]
So I'm thinking to myself, what's next?
My security job only got me like 2 checks
My pops disappointed, told me I'm fuckin' up
Irresponsible and I need some growing up
I told him I would go back, knowing I wouldn't go back
Working a 9 to 5 is something I couldn't stomach
Surrounded by the violence
All the goons and the goblins
With 99 problems I still kept it 100
These streets can be rather manipulating
Especially when you're black and just turned 18
So what's a kid to do, when your fresh out of school and the negatives of the world constantly following you?
Not to mention a local henchman, copped a sheriff's part like terrorists
Osama with badges that talk arrogant
That boy 15 and he holdin' a .45
30 years apart, 30 years before he realized
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Uhh
Soon as the beat drop, I bet some heat pop
On a block close to you like a relative
You sippin' Belvedere while these niggas plannin' to rob Mr. Belvedere
Yeah I'm a good kid tryna stay righteous as Martin Luther but it seems like all of my friends eventually become shooters
And niggas bangin' on you is something that you'll get used to
You can either fight back or run home and grab your ruger
Whatever you do just make sure you're willing to do it
Being too indecisive can get you killed inside your Buick
Cuz you stopped at the light, 5 minutes from midnight
With no tinted windows that nigga surely had shot through it
You tell me you listening, but you don't hear the music
Call you Billy Hoyle when turmoil was near
This is the realest right here
When I lost my very first job
My pops said why?
I said I couldn't aim for the sky
Cuz even shooters can get shot
[Outro]
(yeah, yeah, yeah, wassup?)
These streets ain't none to play with
It could get outrageous
Got burners, .45's and gauges
That could really get outrageous
