Murs
No Shots
[Intro: Mac Miller]
Yeah, yeah
Made a million off a logo with my thumb up
Y'all just gettin' in the game, 'cause you butt fuck
Woah, no shots, no shots
No, no
Hahaha, if I sing it's cool

[Verse 1: Mac Miller]
Yeah, I feel like I'm the messiah
A rebirth of creatures who bowin' to the most high
They knees hurt from prayin' to the "what's his face?", beggin' to be blessed
There's somethin' above me, I'm just the god of what's left, cut the check
I was gone for a year off the fructose
Contemplatin' puttin' fuckin' bullets in the suit coats, who knows?
Go duel with a wizard, wave a magic wand, turn summer into winter
I worship from warships, play PGA courses
Hit the AVN awards 'cause the porn chicks need more dick
I force fit, and put it in her body like a sword-smith
Have her eatin' E pills like corn chips, yeah
How you defeat a ma'fucker with some body armor?
Head shots turn him sweet and sour like an Arne Palmer
Dalai Lama holy as me
Got it locked, holdin' a key

[Chorus: Mac Miller & Vinny Radio]
(Yeah, yeah) No shots
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) No shots
No, no (Uh, uh, uh)
[Verse 2: Vinny Radio]
Okay, n***as squaddin' up again
Wipe the nail polish and lipstick from these broads and get in this
You talk it, you don't live it, instead n***as flexin' on that sus shit, Richard Simmons
Can't stomach what you givin'
Start with body blows, give the beat a headshot
Toss the Glock, flee the scene with red socks
Track kill a n***a, that manila n***a
Your boyfriend probably feelin' better if I'm chillin' with ya
Like coughin' up phlegm from an unfiltered cig
I'm the illest spitter, a Dutch or a Swisher
You always want bigger, turn it up, n***a
9th Wonder beats dump like blunt guts, n***a
This is Most Dope, baby, what else could you want?
Fuck with that bottom shelf, nah, choose us
Mac showed me how to change my life in two months
Tell my girl take out life insurance 'cause I do stunt (Yeah, I do stunt)

[Chorus: Mac Miller, Vinny Radio & Franchise]
No shots (Yeah, I do stunt)
No shots
No, no (Bruh, let me talk to 'em, uh)

[Verse 3: Franchise]
Let's continue the communition
All of my partners ripped to this life locked behind bars whenever we start a sentence
In crunch time, we play the game like it's Olympics
N***as be flexin' in the booth, would've thought we was some gymnasts, uh
And that's without warmin' up, just raisin' the bar
Most Dope, REMember Music, my clique be takin' it far
Got ties with the upper skies, practice aviation
All my peoples tryin' to reach billboards and new vacations
So start hatin' if you wanna, it's nothin' new to us
This extra shit they doin' in they pool and it ain't cool to us
All them stunts, all them bunts wasn't out the park
Fake shit illuminate once we pull it out the dark
So keep your mask on, n***a, play your position (Play your position)
I brought some famished n***as with me to slay your condition
And stop actin' like you n***as came with permission
One phone call could have the goonies turn this to some friction
[Chorus: Mac Miller]
No shots
No shots
No, no

[Verse 4: Choo Jackson]
I walk up in this bitch like I'm Kanye on a Friday
Then hit the highway, man, you gotta leave your driveway
So I'm livin' every moment like it's fuckin' my day
And I need me a Beyonce for a fiancé, okay
So please, little n***a, learn your lesson
Before you count dollars, you gotta count your blessings
2Pac said, "Is there a ghetto in heaven?"
'Cause, nowadays, kids is gettin' fucked by they reverend
So many people, you gotta make exceptions
'Cause they'll look at you with some fuckin' misconception
Like, "Choo, you do drugs," like, "Choo, you shoot slugs"
But nah, Choo really in here with two sluts
We up, we in here to move bucks
I know n***as with K-K-K's like Ku Klux
This ain't no math test, so choose up
And if you lookin' for real shit, then choose us, ayy

[Verse 5: Murs & Mac Miller]
These lightskin girls tryin' to ruin my life
'Cause these straight-legged dudes ain't doin' 'em right
Yeah, me, me and my new Crenshaw cutie
Pretty in the face, but she need a little booty
I got a brown chick who used to sell that white
I told her if she go to jail, then she failed at life
I met her at Flog Gnaw, don't ask about paid dues
I put the west coast on my back, and then I made moves
Motherfuckers, they must've forgot
Now I'm back to rappin' like I gotta take my spot, haha
No shots 'cause I hate gettin' shot at
John Wilkes-Booth put a bullet through your top hat (No shots)
They tried to assassinate the God
But motherfucker, Jamla is the squad
So what's the odds of you comin' up?
Can't fuck with Strange, tuck ya chain if you runnin' up (No shots)
Been at it for a decade plus
They only on they first tour, I don't respect they bus
Lil' motherfuckers thinkin' they next up
You can't change these rules, you got the game messed up
Such and such just bought a new house
Tell that little dude to holler when he twenty years out
Got gold on his neck and gold in his mouth
But he ain't never went gold, what he talkin' about?
That SoundScan, it don't make you dope
I got underground fans that'll slit your throat
Play this for a chick and watch her panties get soaked
Now she nine months pregnant off some shit that I wrote
Oh, you? You make music for the stupidos
Sing a nice hook, but the game need a Rufio
And I ain't fuckin with them roofies, bro
I just mack and leave that to the susios
Dirty, dirty, like my mouth for the south is
I wear the same Vans with all of my outfits
Strange Music life, yeah, I'm really about this
And if you disagree, then put my dick where your mouth is, ha
[Chorus: Mac Miller]
No shots
No shots
No, no
No shots
No shots
No, no