trigger finger lyrics – lil’ wayne

i ain’t lookin’ back, n*gg*.
i’mma douchebag to these p*ssy *ss n*gg*s.
hammer in my draws but i nail yo b*tch.
blunts like fingers, i’m bout to make a fist.
everybody die, gon’ bury me alive.
grab life by the h*rns, put the bullsh*t aside.
glock clip full like the moon in the sky.
i’m at the gas station adding fuel to the fire.
life ain’t sh*t but b*tches and money.
p*ss that weed, like i studied.
bury me in fire and watch me phoenix.
highway to heaven, i’m taking the scenic.
you tied to the track of my train of thoughts.
and controlling my thoughts is like taming sharks.
and these hoes wanna kick it with me, i’mma sensei.
and i got fat pockets, you n*gg*s in shape.
tools on deck, tattoos on necks.
life is a b*tch, i’ll make her yo ex.
better turn to god, ‘fore i turn to godzilla.
how the f*ck you gon’ talk sh*t to diarrhea
muthaf*cka it’s on, i’m just rubbing ’em wrong.
put a bug in my ear, but not in my phone.
i’ll have a broke m*th*f*cka run in ya home.
for a crumb and a bone and put one in ya dome.

one in ya dome
one in ya dome
one in ya dome
one in ya dome
one in ya dome
one in ya dome
one in ya dome
one in ya dome
empty stomach, full clip.
i’m gon get it. gon get it.
my trigger finger itchin’.
my trigger finger itchin’.
my trigger finger itchin’.
my trigger finger itchin’.
my trigger finger itchin’.

i don’t like to dream about gettin’ paid.
you ain’t gon hurt n*body like kid ‘n play.
ain’t nun sweet but the codeine n*gg*.
eyes h*lla red like chlorine in ’em.
i was gettin’ that p*ssy, i was gettin’ that money.
long hair, don’t care, hacksaw jim duggan.
too high to take a breath, too high to take a step.
two rights don’t make a wrong, three rights, make a left.
the cops on my d*ck, the feds on my nerves.
i walk it like i talk it, got legs on my words.
if she don’t suck d*ck, i don’t give her that d*ck.
got the world in my hands, i’mma dribble that b*tch.
money is the issue, full court pressure.
i like my blunt, nutty professor.
i’mma straight rider with a getaway driver.
hit you dead on the money now you dead on arrival
i don’t f*ck with these n*gg*s, too old for new friends.
but never too rich for new money.
these n*gg*s buying hatorade by the twelve pack.
like two stomachs.
i’m laced up like two shoes, miss goody.
keep that ratchet n*gg*.
trigger finger itchin’, i’ll scratch you n*gg*.
blow yo f*ckin’ brains out in traffic n*gg*.
got green, new orleans, st. patrick n*gg*.
one b*tch on the whip, one on the phone.
the one on the phone, is in front of ya home.
she ’bout to run in ya home, and put one in ya dome.

one in ya dome
one in ya dome
one in ya dome
one in ya dome
one in ya dome
one in ya dome
one in ya dome
one in ya dome
empty stomach, full clip.
i’m gon get it. gon get it.
my trigger finger itchin’.
my trigger finger itchin’.
my trigger finger itchin’.
my trigger finger itchin’.
my trigger finger itchin’.

rest in peace to the game ‘cuz i’m fresh to death.
rest in peace to the game, tell them kill theyself.
make yo deathwish, cuz im too fresh.
cuz i’m fresh to death, cuz i’m fresh to death
you go broke tryna get fresh like this.
rest in peace to the game cuz i killed it.
i’m fresh to death, i’m fresh to death
what you talkin’, i came out a coffin.

i just can’t see myself, living in a house of mirrors.
i bought me a double r, cuz i went from rags to riches.
and these n*gg*s nag like b*tches.
actin’ like little f*gs like richard.
and all of my b*tches be bad as vision
you gotta problem i can fix it like a mathematician.
i ammunition, call me ammo for short.
trukfit shirt, camo the shorts.
ya girl is a freak, ya man is a narc.
put ya son in ya arm, or put one in ya dome.

/ lil wayne lyrics