Fully Equipt Lyrics by Paper Route Empire & PaperRoute Woo
Ain’t gotta be no author to write no book
Gangster to have you shook
Ridin’ through the city and I’m fully equipped
Ain’t gotta be no author to write no book
Ain’t gotta be gangster to have you shook
Uh, I’m fully equipped
Author to write no book
Gangster to have you shook
City and I’m fully equipped
Snatch off the tag, then go on a drill
(Damn, Sambo, you fucked ’em up with this one)
Body for body, man, this shit for real
Yeah (Yeah)
I ain’t gotta be no author to write no book (No book)
I ain’t gotta be gangster to have you shook (You shook)
Ridin’ through the city and I’m fully equipped
Snatch off the tag, then go on a drill (Drill)
Jump out on feet, then go for the kill (The kill)
Body for body, man, this shit for real (For real)
Murder for hire, my killer, he skilled (Skilled)
Yeah (Yeah)
I ain’t gotta be no author to write no book (No book)
I ain’t gotta be gangster to have you shook (You shook)
Ridin’ through the city and I’m fully equipped
Snatch off the tag, then go on a drill (Drill)
Jump out on feet, then go for the kill (The kill)
Body for body, man, this shit for real (For real)
Murder for hire, my killer, he skilled (Skilled)
I’m a rapper slash trapper, my n****, know slime gotta get him some Act’
Glock with the tappin’ on that bitch, got that motherfucker hittin’ just like a MAC
Murder, murder, kill, kill, it’s attack
Chest shot’ll make it come out his back
Real n****, never speak on the wack
Seein’ real and seein’ nobody crack
N***** hidin’ and it’s makin’ me mad
Get his mama, auntie, or his dad
Walk ’em down, we ain’t shootin’ out the back
Trail close, Fruit pass me the strap
Switch whips like I switch up the pack
Three thirty drummer and a Glock mag
And I’m shootin’ ’til them bitches is empty
Five with me and he dumpin’ the sixty
Never blankin’ when we get on a mission
Hit ’em up and I ain’t got no forgiveness
At work with the strap, give it to Renas
He hot his main bitch suckin’ my penis
Crease a n****, I ain’t talkin’ ’bout the cleaners
Country white bitch, her name Eva
It’s a thousand shots up in the steamer
Name ringin’ bells, hotter than Phoenix (Yeah, yeah)
Yeah (Yeah)
I ain’t gotta be no author to write no book (No book)
I ain’t gotta be gangster to have you shook (You shook)
Ridin’ through the city and I’m fully equipped
Snatch off the tag, then go on a drill (Drill)
Jump out on feet, then go for the kill (The kill)
Body for body, man, this shit for real (For real)
Murder for hire, my killer, he skilled (Skilled)
Yeah (Yeah)
I ain’t gotta be no author to write no book (No book)
I ain’t gotta be gangster to have you shook (You shook)
Ridin’ through the city and I’m fully equipped
Snatch off the tag, then go on a drill (Drill)
Jump out on feet, then go for the kill (The kill)
Body for body, man, this shit for real (For real)
Murder for hire, my killer, he skilled (Skilled)
Yeah (Yeah, uh-huh, uh-huh)
You n***** know what it is
Walkdown gang for real, hit ’em up, can’t nobody live
Fish fry gang, you n***** be broke, I already know what it is
Tombstone gang, put ’em in the dirt, I’m tryna go bury a n****
I’m the type of n**** go on a mission with all my ice on
Fuck your baby mama from the back, n****, hell yeah, I put the pipe on her
Glock 45 with the light on it
Killed the pussy ten times, n****, but I thought I had nine lives on it
Police-ass n**** in interrogation rooms and they tellin’ lies on me
Leave a n**** ass stinkin’ in the Scat Pack, n****, with the flies on him
Smoke a blunt, then vibe on ’em
Big Blood, I’ma send Five on ’em
You know what’s brackin’
Say you a gangster and they’ll get it crackin’
All of the Glocks, they automatic
Yeah (Yeah)
I ain’t gotta be no author to write no book (No book)
I ain’t gotta be gangster to have you shook (You shook)
Ridin’ through the city and I’m fully equipped
Snatch off the tag, then go on a drill (Drill)
Jump out on feet, then go for the kill (The kill)
Body for body, man, this shit for real (For real)
Murder for hire, my killer, he skilled (Skilled)
Yeah (Yeah)
I ain’t gotta be no author to write no book (No book)
I ain’t gotta be gangster to have you shook (You shook)
Ridin’ through the city and I’m fully equipped
Snatch off the tag, then go on a drill (Drill)
Jump out on feet, then go for the kill (The kill)
Body for body, man, this shit for real (For real)
Murder for hire, my killer, he skilled (Skilled)
(Damn, Sambo, you fucked ’em up with this one)