Future – Shoot Out Da Roof

فیوچر – شوت اوت ده روف

Peerin’ out the roof
Shootin’ out the roof
Shootin’ out the coupe
Aim for the top, satan on the block
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Peein’ out the roof
Shoot out the roof
Ain’t with the goof
Ain’t with the goof
Ain’t with the goof
Aim with the goof
Mob with the shooters
Got more shooters than Mark Cuban
Twenty bitches, twenty sticks, twenty Cubans
Sippin’ on dope in some Forces
Trappin’ out the Porsche, to a Porsche
Pyrex Bowl [?]
Trappin’ a sport, in Dior
Got it out the mud, no choice
Ain’t have a choice, but to jump in that Royce
Real rich nigga keep a bad bitch moist
Real rich nigga keep a bad bitch moist
Real rich nigga keep a bad bitch moist
Real rich nigga keep a bad bitch moist
Wipers, lifers, diapers, yeah
Turbo, nitro, pipe up, yeah

Future – Shoot Out Da Roof

Chop it up, hip-hop, off with the nigga head
Hit it up, drip it up, baguette, VVS
Drank up, wocky, hi-tech, yellow-red
She good enough to be a sidepiece
Hit a group of friends like Siamese
Bought the Richard, to match the Ferrari
Ion stop for cops, do high speed
Peerin’ on the roof
Shoot out the coupe
Ain’t with the loose
Ain’t with the goof
Ain’t with the goof
Ain’t with the goof
Aim with the goof
Mob with the shooters
Got more shooters than Mark Cuban
Twenty bitches, twenty sticks, twenty Cubans
Wipe a
Nose
Typa shit we on
Diamond, shinin’, real nigga uniform
Cutter, get to cuttin’ up
Bullets rainin’, stormin’
My hitters cook like a chef with no George Foreman
Drug dealer made a fortune
Stay lit like a torch
Top-down on the Porsche
I’m good, I’m sponsored
Bitch left me for dead
Came back a Monster

دانلود Future – Shoot Out Da Roof

Exotic chocolate bitches, Willy Wonka
Look like I throwed a bob-sled on my charm
Walkin’ in Chanel store, blew cocaine, on my momma
Take a pint green, when I was broke ballin, no jumper
Gotta tote that beam everywhere I go, I’m on point
Sippin’ codeine everywhere I go, she with us
If you’ve been lookin’ for your hoe, she with us
I’ma let my hoe fuck your hoe, so ain’t no rush
When I hit the bunda, doors close, car crank up
Peerin’ out the roof
Shoot out the coupe
Ain’t with the goof
Ain’t with the goof
Ain’t with the goof
Aim with the goof
Mob with the shooters
Got more shooters than Mark Cuban
Twenty bitches, twenty sticks, twenty Cubans