Shoot To Kill

[Hook:] I say! Soundboy, there's no need to worry As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you So you don't have to worry at all I shine my Glock every night until I'm satisfied And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings I wanna full you up with lead [Chorus:] Shoot to kill, every day Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit Shoot to kill, every day Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit [Verse 1:] Mi just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block Make them know bad bwoy don't take chat We just shot them up (BO!), cau' we wicked like that Nah tell no lie, nuff guys who a flop BDP and Mad Lion combine Make them know we just shot out a guy's spine Wicked bad bwoy a deh pon the front line Cau' we gun don't join church Nah go a Sunday School Waan diss the program bwoy? You lie down in a blood pool! Test, Kid Capri we just shot dat (BO!) Test, Bobby Konders we just shot dat (BO!) Funkmaster Flex, you can't test him (BO!) Awesome 2, make we lick shot (BO!) Who's been listening to BDP From 1986 to 1993? Hands up in the air, make the Mad Lion see Lick pure shot if you love it badly (BO! BO!) [Hook:] Cause soundboy, there's no need to worry As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you [Verse 2:] I take a whiff of my spliff and then I ches back Don't haffi worry KRS him have my back He have the gun with the red light pon top Willie D yes, him crazy, hold 20 mags Diss the program bwoy, you pick up a shot One, two, three, down, nuh take back chat [Hook:] That's why soundboy, there's no need to worry As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you So you don't have to worry at all I shine my Glock every night, each night 'til I'm satisfied And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings I wanna full you up with shots [Chorus:] Shots without a limit Shoot to kill Shot the bwoy Write him will Six feet under Can't come back Dead man dem Cannot chat [Outro:] I just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block Make them know BDP don't take chat See the bwoy waan come flex inna we zone Make them know BDP take the trophy home Wicked bad bwoy, and we bad to the bone Listen Mad Lion pon the damn tune That's why All the people jump and kick up Know BDP say them sweet like syrup Hands up in the air and you pop (BO! BO!)