Jay Swingler - Shotty Lyrics


(All my features are the ones on my body)
(Shut ’em off, kill ’em all with my shotty)
(Bury beats, bury bodies, now we stinky ’cause i’m rottin’)
(And I’m drinking from the bottle and it’s showing)

They said, «It’s way too late to be a rapper»
Contain the flow, still waitin’ for it to happen
This box I’m leaving, It’s too small for what I’m droppin’
Seasons changing like my mind on the jeans that I been saggin’
To be a rapper, I don’t need to be a trapper
Cop a trap house, it really didn’t happen
Gravitate to the fields with the daisies
Oh T, T, that’s me, I’ll put my engine in a tractor

(All my features are thе ones on my body)
(Shut ’em off, kill ’em all with my shotty)
(Bury beats, bury bodies, now we stinky ’cause i’m rottin’)
(And I’m drinking from the bottle and it’s showing)

Hairline’s finished so it’s time to get a transplant
Like Corona, I’m a virus, and that’s facts
Glove up, I’m swinging
This vaccine is too strong, 6 ounce of a flu jab, I’m twinging
Now what you bringin’?
Oh, that’s different
You’re tipsy
But I’m vicious
Surrounded by a pack of wolves and we all barkin’
I’m like a Tesla, put me in and I start chargin’
Fill it [?] with precision
My decisions, they irrational, exquisite, take my aim and I’ll dartin’
I’m never missin’
I’m eating so good, my bowels lookin’ different
I look delicious

All my features are the ones on my body
Shut ’em off, kill ’em all with my shotty
Bury beats, bury bodies, now we stinky ’cause it’s rottin’
And I’m drinking from the bottle and it’s showing

When I’m sane go and turn your fucking lights out— (Yo, turn the fucking lights back on)
Thomas Edison invented all my problems
Like a light bulb, I’m going, stacking up my peaceful wattage
Run away from the problems of my demons
I’m waking up from the dreams that I’ve been dreamin’
Suicide, like deserts, I’ve been waiting for the toppins
We line up to get some Childish when I’m droppin’
That shit is poppin’
And religious, check the notion. What to pick?
Kinda hard when I got options
You name it
I stock it
The cotton, The fabric, The labels, The pant-hose, Deposits
Slow motion
The process
The linkups
It’s no stress
I’m clipping
My eyes always melting, I’m burnin’, I’m gifted (G-g-gift-)

All my features are the ones on my body
Shut ’em off, kill ’em all with my shotty
Bury beats, bury bodies, now we stinky because it’s rottin’
And I’m drinking from the bottle and it’s showin’


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