[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