[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