Shot From My Gun - Lyrics - Britny Fox

Title: Shot From My Gun
Artist: Britny Fox
Composer(s): Michael Kelly Smith, Tommy Paris

Lyric:
Say you're gonna take me
Up and down your track it's up and back
Once around the block to show me
Everything that you can do

You're promisin' the world to me
Sayin', "Just you wait and see"
[Incomprehensible] talk is cheap when all the guns
Are pointed down at you

It's true

Watchin' all the action
From a ring side seat
My double barrel's
Gonna knock you off your feet

Shot from my gun
Baby take me higher
Shot from my gun
Don't call me a liar

Shot from my gun
Baby take me higher
Shot from my gun

You've got a live one
Runnin' through your open heart
Got your number waiting for the chance
To call you again

Sweating from the moments
Leading up to face the music
I call your bluff
And now it's time for a delivery

You're gonna see

Watchin' all the action
From a ring side seat
My double barrel's
Gonna knock you off your feet

Shot from my gun
Baby take me higher
Shot from my gun
Don't call me a liar

Shot from my gun
Baby take me higher
Shot from my gun
Don't call me a liar

Shot from my gun
Baby take me higher
Shot from my gun
Don't call me a liar

Shot from my gun
Baby take me higher
Shot from my gun
Don't call me a liar

Shot from my gun
Baby take me higher
Shot from my gun
Don't call me a liar

Shot from my gun
Baby take me higher
Shot from my gun
Don't call me a liar

Shot from my gun
Shot from my gun
Shot from my gun

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acca342de6f84af4b36f7111725aa375

12 - Get My Gun - Lyrics - D12 World - D

Title: 12 - Get My Gun
Album: D12 World
Artist: D
Composer(s): Von M Carlisle, De Shaun Dupree Holton, Rufus B Johnson, Steve King, Marshall Mathers, Ondre C Moore, Denaun M Porter, Luis Resto

Lyric:
I'm goin' to get get my gun

This motherfucker wants to disrespect me?
Em, Em, what the fuck you doing man?
I got something for his ass, calm down, no you calm down
Man, what's you're problem? Fuck that

The motherfucker wants to pop shit to me? Man
He wasn't poppin' shit, you heard him he was poppin' them shit
What shit? That shit, you heard him
He asked for your autograph

A mass murderer, pack burners to blast further then you can get
My shit be shooting through bricks
I mix anything together, I done guillotine a nigger
Keep it heated, I pop clips with 17 or better

I'll be severin' heads, I'm in everyones nightmare
A nigger that can never ever be scared of the FED's
And the niggers that'll fuck with you, stab and brass knuckle you
Then have you in the public, there's nothing that you can do

Enough with you're motherfucking tough talk, you're soft
Get you're balls blew off, from a sawed-off, fa' raw dawg?
Crazier then all y'all , what you like the navy when I'm angry
You'll never catch me hangin' in a NOC's car

All I have is thought of, breathing evil
Desert Eagle's will eat through people
When I see you I'ma heat you're beef slow
Fuck being peaceful, the piece in the vehicle and

(I'm goin' to get get my gun)
This motherfucker's poppin' that shit
Nah fuck that I'll be right back
(I'm goin' to get get my gun)
Nah motherfucker, fuck you
You ain't disrespectin' me like that

(I'm goin' to get get my gun)
Walk to the room, sixteen shot clip
Bitch how you like that?
(I'm goin' to get get my gun)
Bet you ain't know that I'm strapped
Nice one, bitch this is my gat
(I'm goin' to get get my gun)

I bring it to niggers lookin' as if they want trouble
I send they body flippin' around like a stunt double
Forget about the fightin', scrappin', squabing, buckin'
I'll squeeze the piece you jumpin', dodgin', duckin'

Squatin' under trucks and screamin' "That niggers bluffin' "
I cuff my nuts while cussin' "Don't trust him"
I'm round up Runyan, Dave, Wood and Nico
My nigger Big I Jamal lettin' the heat blow

Heat sleep hoes got it in, you're neepo
'Cause you keep shooting at me and missing like Shaq's free-throws
You gotta hit a little closer if you wanna try
Pistol whip a soldier, with a missle on his shoulders

You can fold or blow ya' brick house into some tiny boulders
A grimey older cab will leave you with a tiny odor
I'm doggish, you feelin' frogish, you leap bitch
My car is right across the street bitch and
(I'm goin' to get get my gun)

My whole outfit count clips, get you're house lit the fuck up
You're spouse shit, and you're mouse clip
Betta' watch miscountless slugs I'ma send
Watch you holla when them hollow tips dug threw you're skin

I'm in love with the sin, tell Bugz I'ma see him
When I cock back, right to put your blood on you're friends
Make a run, got a hint, bust a slug on his chin
Ain't going no were like the drugs outta Kim

I'm a psycho icon, the mightful might bomb
Get a eye full of lead when I slight you're lights out
With a street cleaner, wipe you're life out
Bullets flow at you're ears, like a Tyson fight bout

Fuck the night clout, guns, clips
(I'm goin' to get my )
Fuck that, run bitch
Hit the street talks, chumps don't know me
Ain't no profit to be home crowd homie

Dumbass motherfuckers, always gotta come to me
With some dumb shit
Fuckin' I done told this motherfucker
Wassup bitch? Autograph this, oh shit
(I'm goin' to get my gun)

I'm trying to pull the trigger but it's stuck, fuck
My shit is all jammed up, up
C'mon you cock sucking, good for nothing
Mother-fucking piece of shit, shoot, ah

Yeah, wattup bitch? Say that shit again
Shot the bullet missed, hit a brick
Bounced of it ricocheted back in his shin
Went through his bitch on the way back hit his friend

Payback homie, don't play that shit is spin
To be on I told you to leave this shit alone or
(I'm goin' to get my gun)
And it's a shame I'm to drunk to even aim
Denaun stepped in the way and I shot him in his leg

It's like bang, bang, bang nigger pop, pop, pop
Everybody bustin' rounds like they ra, ra, ra
But when you see me in the street, I be like Wassup now?
They bodyguard be steppin' in trying to calm shit down
(Chill out man, chill out)

Fuck that I got a bone to pick, you said it
Then we said that wrestle like some grown man shit
Then we, then we could talk about our problems, couldn't we?
Just shoot a fair one and handled this situation seriously

I guess not, you wanna resort to the heater
So I gotta grab my Mac and my Uzi and my Nina
Step between us and get shot but get separated with the squeeze
You ain't ready for war, Runyan ain't nothing to play with

This motherfucker's poppin' that shit
Nah fuck that I'll be right back
(I'm goin' to get get my gun)
Nah motherfucker, fuck you
You ain't disrespectin' me like that

(I'm goin' to get get my gun)
Walk to the room, sixteen shot clip
Bitch how you like that?
(I'm goin' to get get my gun)
Bet you ain't know that I'm strapped
Nice one, bitch this is my gat
(I'm goin' to get get my gun)

Walk to Rite-Aid for a can of spaghetti
It's been one hour and bitch my photo's ain't ready
Picture's of my dog and my family reunion
It's been two hours and my fuckin' days ruined

Hey, Kate, do you wanna get raped?
Have my pictures on fucking Phillips 38
That's why I don't be fucking battle rapping
'Cause every time I lose, this is what the fuck happens

Back to these pictures I was trying to get developed
This man tried to get in front of me, I wouldn't let him
I'm ready to blow this bitches brains out
I'm nervous, I farted, some shit came out

Times up, shot her with a gun
Got on my cell phone and called Rev. Run
And all this crazy shit I, regret it
All 'cause I wanted to see Elton John naked

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b6329960aa28237a821ca7f36c419b78

Run Dem - Lyrics - Broken Silence - Foxy Brown

Title: Run Dem
Album: Broken Silence
Artist: Foxy Brown
Composer(s): Inga Marchand, Dave Willard Antho Kelly, Dameon Beckett

Lyric:
Whoa, a what de blood claat 'em fool 'em

Who the fuck told bitches they could do what I do?
All of a sudden all y'all bitches got accents too?
Bad gyal, bitches can't do the shit that I do
Sometime a gal figure it cool

I tell a motherfucker this
Some niggaz nowadays move worse than a bitch
And as for this chick, me love bum flick on bad man dick so
Got the pussy, I got the live fo'

I'm a grown ass bitch with my own ass shit
Now hear dis and I wan' chat me a go bustin' a secret
Y'all big botty man, ya have look man bottom
Pussy watchman, you a trace gyal patton

Fuck who, niggaz wish they could fuck me
Like they never seen a hot gyal act like we
Big bumba claat star, push hot car
Big hood, and love back way all day

The way my man fuck, can't even stand up
And when he gets stiff it cum like ten dicks
Take it through my hole right through my appendix
I got a message, why don't ch'all motherfuckers sit on this?

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

Out of all the broads in the game, Fox is the baddest
Picture me fuckin' with a nigga half my status
Bad gal bust big gun and no wan' see me back it
Move ya bumba hole, bwoy gwon mind ya jacket

How dare y'all motherfuckers even spit my name
Cool na man, 'fore I have you X'd out the game
And tell dem all you young pussy like sugar cane
And buck yat take beer owed by queer, oh dem where dat?

Bet you wish you lucked up, and got a quick nut
Wouldn't fuck you if I was horny, or pissy ass drunk
Lucky I don't fuck around and get you stuck up
Waitin' outside your studio, collect your dub bucks

Bitch, fuck around and get that nigga gun buck
Outsider fully loaded with the gun stashed up
In front of Cactus, chrome fo' fifth
And a bag of full clip for niggaz with loose lip

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

How many times I got to let y'all bitches know I'm
One of a kind, can't fuck with mines?
See when Fox in the place, pure hotness a gwan
When I bust wine we na watch ya face, gwan

Ya too fraud, sound ridiculous
I'm the only trini bitch that can kick yard shit
What you know about skin out and bruck out
Like a bad gyal bunny hot style, pop pure style

Look at this wannabes comin' around me
Sick of thes fake G's tryin' to clown me
Why these niggaz be tryin' to drown me?
I'm tellin' you fools no one can bound me

Look at this wannabe's comin' around me
Sick of thes fake G's tryin' to clown me
Why you niggaz be tryin' to drown me?
I'm tellin' you fools no one can bound me

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

I I Inga I I Inga, Fox Brown, Baby Cham
Look at this, on the beast
Loo-loo-look at this, on the beast
Come in the brown, ro-round me
Ro-round me, fake niggas, fake niggas

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The Have Nots - Lyrics - Truth Crushed To Earth Shall Rise Again - House Of Pain

Title: The Have Nots
Album: Truth Crushed To Earth Shall Rise Again
Artist: House Of Pain
Composer(s): Erik Schrody, Leor Dimant

Lyric:
Benevolence, mercy, discipline
Benevolence, mercy, discipline
Benevolence

Here come the, here come the, here come the pain
Here come the, here come the, here come the pain
Here come the, here come the, here come the pain
Here come the, here come the, here come the pain

Uplift your soul, get your house in order
MC's be actin' like they walkin' on water
I'll break ya down like a poem wrote in haiku
Who you gonna lie to before I crucify you

Hammer to the nails, commence the impailin'
My acid flashbacks got everything trailin'
I'm sailin' blind on the open seas
Like an overload of Hatian refugees

And I'm on my knees, my face on the rug
One more prostration for my salvation
My jinns buggin' up, its got me fuckin' up
The call of my flesh and my soul won't mesh

So lick a shot when I heat up the spot
I'm taking from the have's 'cause to be the have nots
Lick a shot when I heat up the spot
Boy, where you gonna run when the gun get hot

Lick a shot when I heat up the spot
I'm taking from the haves 'cause to be the have nots
Lick a shot when I heat up the spot
Boy, where you gonna run when the gun get hot

Here come the, here come the, here come the pain
Here come the, here come the, here come the pain
Here come the, here come the, here come the pain
Here come the, here come the, here come the pain

I got the pressures of the world comin' down all around me
I thought I was lost but thank God you found me
I'm gettin' crazy ideas of suicide
Lord I tried, Lord I tried, to make the best of what I got

I keep on takin' pot shots from the critics and the media
That's what it be to ya but you can stick it where the sun don't shine
'Cause I'm goin' for mine, I rock it all the time
Here comes the pain

So lick a shot when I heat up the spot
I'm taking from the haves 'cause to be the have nots
Lick a shot when I heat up the spot
Boy, where you gonna run when the gun get hot

Lick a shot when I heat up the spot
I'm taking from the haves 'cause to be the have nots
Lick a shot when I heat up the spot
Boy, where you gonna run when the gun get hot

Here come the, here come the, here come the pain
Here come the, here come the, here come the pain
Here come the, here come the, here come the pain
Here come the, here come the, here come the pain

Now in the race for rats that be holdin' gats
I'll run the hustle on the legend like Minnesota fats
Not domino 'cause your wisdom found at thrill
Drunk on strawberry hill the episode was re-runnin'

Over and over, and three times a lady
She said peep the scene at the end, I ain't shady
But, you and me be as hush, hush
The word be mum if you keep the low pro, I'll still give you some

'Cause I got a man and he pays my bills
He keeps my wears real fly and hooks my hair and nails
Baby don't sweat it, baby keep calm, baby don't worry I be Vietcong
I can run three days on a bowl of rice and a piece of fish
I'll grant your every wish, so

So lick a shot when I heat up the spot
I'm taking from the haves 'cause to be the have nots
Lick a shot when I heat up the spot
Boy, where you gonna run when the gun get hot

Lick a shot when I heat up the spot
I'm taking from the haves 'cause to be the have nots
Lick a shot when I heat up the spot
Boy, where you gonna run when the gun get hot

Benevolence, mercy, discipline
Benevolence, mercy, discipline
Benevolence, mercy, discipline
Benevolence, mercy, discipline

Pain
Pain
Pain
...

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b03912b219046d4a1b4dc7165e49129f

Gun Play - Lyrics - Prodigy Of Mobb Deep

Title: Gun Play
Artist: Prodigy Of Mobb Deep
Composer(s): Albert J Johnson, Tajuan Perry, Clay Pitts, Dana Stinson

Lyric:
Yeah, kill 'em, how we do it dun
Get your gunz nigga, we killing 'em
Getting real up in here y'all
What like, is like, is like, is like
How we do it dun, Murder muzik
Big Noyd, Big P, get your gunz, nigga

Yo, you know who we be, the R A double P E R
Niggaz fuck with this and they get sent to the E R
I see y'all flashing, diamond, dancing, shining, keep your head up
'Cause you'll get wet up, flashing diamonds, dancing, shining
But thugs like me, repping QBC is a place when is cold out
Niggaz go all out

Make the dogs bark, you know nigga the gunz spark
Drama we into, and bring it to you physical
With four fives, four nines, gunz ain't a thang duke
You know what them thangs do, swing and lay whole crew

There's tension in the air, better chill when I'm telling you
I know you down from eighty five live, you ain't scared to die
You getting dough and getting by yatti yatt -ya
But its real when the H N I C and the R A double P
Strap with them G U N Z

My gunz popping, your gunz pop
We could go out shot for shot
We can do it to the gunz go lock
Bust none stop, y'all niggaz want a gun play

My gunz popping, your gunz pop
We could go out shot for shot
We can do it to the gunz go lock
Bust none stop, oh niggaz want a gun play

Really, let's do it here and now, we don't negotiate
We don't settle out, we pull a heavy metal out
We make niggaz shit, make niggaz piss
Niggaz humble when my duns rumble
Go ahead pop your gun, we got those too
This ain't nothin' new, you ain't a threat

Whatcha a gangsta, you a vet?
Whatcha you a thug who demand respect
Like I give a shit, nigga, I'll give a clip to your abs
You get torn up fucking with P, you'll get it bad
It's like the same old song

Let nigga front, blow his top off and I'm not in the wrong
Cause nigga deserve every piece of death they get
Every piece of bullet, every chunk of flesh they lose
You knew the rules, you knew what you was getting into
You touch me, so its mandatory that I hit you

My gunz popping, your gunz pop
We could go out shot for shot
We can do it to the gunz go lock
Bust none stop, y'all niggaz want a gun play

My gunz popping, your gunz pop
We could go out shot for shot
We can do it to the gunz go lock
Bust none stop, these niggaz want a gun play

Yo, yo, yo, we ain't shooting doors
We kicking doors down bucking your broads
Dont let me catch you, eye you up
And then draws, we murder y'all
Criminal minds, pack nines when they rock

Foul way y'all sound, that's how we get down till they rot
If your gunz pop nigga, my gun pop
Do the maths, somebody ass gonn be up in a box
Its not me, no days, no nights and you
No more rocking your wear, Gucci's with your Nikes

True, no more fronting like you larger than life
Nigga I'll terminate your days, cancel your nights
It's not a problem, holla at my dawgs
Show you how to work them guns
Fuck a spare clip, we got extra drums

That'll handicap your team till y'all bleed all over the street
Whiles I get the fuck up and outta here quick
And if your man wanna ride, for your bum ass
The shit nigga

My gunz popping, your gunz pop
We could go out shot for shot
We can do it to the gunz go lock
Bust none stop, y'all niggaz want a gun play

My gunz popping, your gunz pop
We could go out shot for shot
We can do it to the gunz go lock
Bust none stop, these niggaz want a gun play

My gunz popping, your gunz pop
We could go out shot for shot
We can do it to the gunz go lock
Bust none stop, y'all niggaz want a gun play

My gunz popping, your gunz pop
We could go out shot for shot
We can do it to the gunz go lock
Bust none stop, these niggaz don't want no gun play

Nah, fagot ass nigga
Clap 'em down, clap 'em down
Clap 'em down, son

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c153587b1786981630aa2fdad596aef4

Lick Shots - Lyrics - Styles

Title: Lick Shots
Artist: Styles
Composer(s): J Hood, D Styles, K Dean, S Jacobs, J Philips

Lyric:
Lick a shot for the predicate felons and gangster niggas
That know that doing their time is better than tellin'
Don't tell Dog, lick a shot for the graveyard shift
And all the hustlers on ninety-five for the graveyard prick
Lick a shot for this weed I need, just to see clear
To tell the truth I can't breathe a ki, lick a shot for the stick up
Kids that twist up wigs thats the shit that happens
When you pick up bids, lick a shot for the foreign car

American trucks old timers that'll throw a stack of presidents up
Got dice shooter slang, need a pistol to hang
But the P understand 'cause the ghetto is fucked
Lick a shot for the fiends that got to go see the minors
On the block to get medicined up, lick a shot for the
Sake of licking a shot and every time I'm far away
From home I'll be missing my block, D-Block nigga

Lick shots for the hood
Yeah nigga we good
Lick shots for the poor
We still gotta run from the law
Lick shots for the rich
I-95 moving them bricks
Lick shots for the crew
My niggas'll ride and I ride too

Someone lick a shot for D-Block 'cause that's what I'm on
Lick a shot for the niggas that ain't survive the storm
Lick a shot for all my niggas on the run
And lick a shot for all my real niggas that got bodies on they gun
Lick a shot for my niggas 'cause I know they'll do the same
For my niggas that run through the flames and walk through the rain
Lick a shot for all the niggas growing up in the slums
Blowing they spliffs with they razor blades under they tongue

Lick a shot for all my niggas that be banging they hammers
Sticking up stores, taking the tape out the video cameras
Lick a shot at all y'all haters whether smaller or bigger
Lick a shot 'cause Hood ain't never been scared to pull a trigger
Lick a shot for all my niggas that be pumping they crills
When the beef start cooking they be bustin' they steel
Lick a shot 'cause I ain't scared to and lick a shot 'cause
I'm prepared to crack a buckle with the matching hair due

Lick shots for the hood
Yeah nigga we good
Lick shots for the poor
We still gotta run from the law
Lick shots for the rich
I-95 moving them bricks
Lick shots for the crew
My niggas'll ride and I ride too

I lick shots for my niggas in jail, 23 hours in the hole
On life parole my jack mack niggas, octopus wildin'
Closest food they ever gettin to is city island
I lick shots for COS that hit niggas off for weed
And don't care if you bleed just mind they business
And go the other way for the right price they could

Get you the yay, I lick shots for my thug ass niggas
That'll put something in you, from they car and hit your face
Through the diner menu, your body get numb
You swallow your tongue cough up blood, that's the work I do
What I lick shots for my niggas thats not on tour and gotta
Hustle to eat its the motherfuckin' way of the streets, pay attention

Lick shots for the hood
Yeah, nigga we good
Lick shots for the poor
We still gotta run from the law
Lick shots for the rich
I-95 moving them bricks
Lick shots for the crew
My niggas'll ride and I ride too

Lick shots for the little babies in the projects
Running around unsupervised with sharp objects
Lick shots for papi that give you the yay half price
And niggas that ain't ever been heard but they mad nice
Nobody tell when I squeeze at your men
Lick shots when your diesels at ten, I'ma see you again
Lick shots 'cause my record is clean
Middle of the street, broad day lettin' it scream

If I'm lucky they'll squirt through your back and after that I'll make sure
I lick shots for the purple and yack, lick shots just to guard your grill
To my nigga T and Green and my uncle and Arthur Kill
Lick shots for the S-L 6, Cherry Red with them chrome things
On it with the X-L lips, lick shots for the niggas who got shot
And ain't here, they say life goes on but it ain't fair

Lick shots for the hood
Yeah nigga we good
Lick shots for the poor
We still gotta run from the law
Lick shots for the rich
I-95 moving them bricks
Lick shots for the crew
My niggas'll ride and I ride too

Lick shots for the hood
Yeah nigga we good
Lick shots for the poor
We still gotta run from the law
Lick shots for the rich

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3e4557124ae4e5f4193656f52e0158c0

Cradle To The Grave - Lyrics - Thug Life: Vol. 1 - 2pac

Title: Cradle To The Grave
Album: Thug Life: Vol. 1
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Walter Burns, Diron Rivers, Tyruss Gerald Himes, Tupac Shakur, Maurice Harding

Lyric:
From the cradle to the grave
Life ain't never been easy living in the ghetto
From the cradle to the grave
Life ain't never been easy

June 16, 1971, mama gave birth
To a hell raisin' heavenly son
See the doctor tried to smack me
But I smacked him back

My first words were
"Thug for life" and "Papa pass the Mac"
I'm bustin' on these mothafuckas ballin'
Listen you can hear my mini 14 callin'

From out the window of my drop top
I got my glock cocked
Bustin' at niggas when will it stop?
Now tell me are you scared of the dark?

Can't close my eyes I see visions
And even with this thug livin', will I escape prison ?
Penitentiary chances was an all day thang
The only way to advance and if you slang

Better have your Nikes on 'cause when we fight
It's in the middle of the night with no lights on
Hey, there must be a God 'cause I feel lucky
Paranoid out my mind, this mothafucka's tryin' to rush me

Am I goin' to jail? Look at me bailin'
Commin' out the court house all about my mail and bank
Never die, be a hustler mothafuckas and makin' thugs out you suckas
From the cradle to the grave

From the cradle to the grave
Life ain't never been easy, living in the ghetto

From the cradle to the grave, since a little bitty child
I've been known to get ill and kinda buck wild
Pop, pop, just like the part that's in my walk with street talk
Go runnin' up the block in the dark with less spark

Surveillance on a nigga every day
Waitin' on my daddy just to take his ass away
Now Mama always workin', tryin' to make ends meet
So now a young niggas bein' raised by the streets

And then the only other one that ever showed me love
Was my dope fiend uncle strung out on drugs
A straight thug, just me, my mama out here on our own
So I got two gatts, one black and one of chrome

Now I don't wanna hurt nobody but I must defend mine
It's all the fuck I got, so stop and walk a thin line
Young niggas be brave and keep on thuggin'
From the cradle to the grave, from the cradle to the grave

From the cradle to the grave
Life ain't never been easy, living in the ghetto

From the cradle to the grave, I'm glad to say
I made it this far, many G's died hard
They know that got was their name here up on a wall
It's sad thinkin' about the times

Life goes on, I'm steady lost in this land
As the war zone I got no home
Don't have no friends neither
It's just me by my lonely so I married my Nina

I keeps her wherever I go, I love my ho
Never leave home with out my sugar
I'm hafta plug a nigga
Mama told me not to trust no punks

And kick his ass if he lay a hand on me
Since then I been known
Sometimes I think my own self stupid
'Cause I stay shootin' at marks
Get twisted up in police reports

Since the cradle, I've been ungrateful
My first toy was a gun
I got sprung and learn to love weapons

But now I'm through with money
And through with street fame
Somebody peeled my cap
And put me in my grave

From the cradle to the grave
Life ain't never been easy, living in the ghetto
From the cradle to the grave
Life ain't never been easy, living in the ghetto

March 18th, that rainy day, my mama gave birth
To a baby boy, trapped in hell on earth
From day one it wasn't fun I never had a crumb
Daddy worked two jobs and Mama won't stop drinkin' rum

I tried to cope loc but my family's broke
And my pocket's short so now I gotta sling dope
In a game filled with pain, it's a fuckin' shame
The white man got a mothafucka slingin' cane

So now it's on from dusk to dawn I get my serve on
Always in the spot with my glock slingin' rocks at the rocks
The shit don't stop I'm steady dodgin' cops
I never flip flop, hear my glock cock thug till I drop

And if I hit the pen I gotta do my time
Sittin' on my bunk reminiscing about the good times
It's fucked up a nigga gotta grow up doing dirt
But from the cradle to the grave I'ma put in work

From the cradle to the grave
Life ain't never been easy, living in the ghetto
From the cradle to the grave
Life ain't never been easy, living in the ghetto

Time's movin' fast, will I last another day?
So I pray and I lay with my A-K
Did I sell my soul as a young kid?
All the things I did wishin' someone held me
But they never did

I can't take it, will I make it to my older age?
Before I'm shot up or locked up in a fuckin' cage
Lord, help me, guide me, save me
'Cause that's the way that Daddy raised me crazy

Do or die, nigga, pull the trigger don't give a fuck
You'd rather be in jail than get your ass bucked
Nobody cares, it's me against the world
Keepin' murder on my mind and my Tech-9

I got nothin' to lose, payin' dues, nigga you wanna die?
I get high then my mission is a walk-by
You'd better jet when I hit your set 'cause I'm commin'
Start runnin', yellin', "Evil mind", as I'm gunnin'

One in the chamber for the anger that I build inside
For the mothers that cried, for my homies that died
The beginning is an ending, am I just a slave
So I got to be brave from the cradle to the grave

From the cradle to the grave
Life ain't never been easy, living in the ghetto
From the cradle to the grave
Life ain't never been easy, living in the ghetto

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e2a0c1f741e2608cbd8bfc276182af40

2 Glocks - Lyrics - BTNHResurrection - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: 2 Glocks
Album: BTNHResurrection
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Charles Scruggs, Jimmy Thomas, Bone Bryon Mccane, Stanley Howse, Anthony Henderson

Lyric:
Give it to 'em, bring your gun
Give it to 'em, bring your gun

Get cha gun, get cha gun, did you kill 'em all?
To death, death, death
Fuck with the niggas with the guns
And you might get shot, get shot

Get cha gun, get cha gun, did you kill 'em all?
To death, death death
You could be the first to feel the heat
To see how much we got, we got

I still be the thuggish ruggish nigga
Dressed in all black khakis, fatigues, and boots
Still don't give a fuck about the law
Still run with a pump in my car and fuck who you are

You're fucking with a couple of niggas that's really insane
I'm talking loco, crazy as hell, it ain't just a name
It's the game and we done loosened up a couple strings
And shook a couple of screws loose in my brain

Besides that, ain't nothin' changed
Look at me now I'm still a thug, nigga I still smoke bud
You know I still represent St. Clair wig split shit, nigga what?
This is Bone Thugs niggas

Thinkin' I told you but we put it down like that
And whoever we got to fuck up to prove that we do it
And keep on movin, guess who's back up in the house?
Original Cleveland Criminals

Niggas just send em subliminal messages
Like 'Murda, mo murder murder'
Never forgot where we come from
Watch how you move your tongue

'Cause I got niggas that's ready to jump off in your ass
And smash and crash, protect my niggas for combat
Leathaface at ya and on your ass like I was a heat seeker
Quickly the reaper peep you, sweep you off your feet in Cleveland

I be the smoothest little nigga you can meet me
But nigga you fuck with me then I'm a fuck with you
Introduce you to this heat, I sweep the street
When I draw down, let me hear you say, "Fuck the law now"

Rawest niggas in the town ready to thug and go down
Go pound for pound, nigga that's the motto
Let me see you throw them things and if it's real
Nigga keep it real show me your game

I'm sure gonna claim what the fuck is mine
My nigga I'll take it grab a player hater by the neck
Choke him out and try to break it
Gimme your money, drop them keys

It's a jack move bitch and since you haters ain't got no business
That's how we attack your shit
Nigga we'll smack your bitch in the middle of the Grammy
And the media might ban me, nigga this Mo Thug Family is for real

Get cha gun, get cha gun, did you kill 'em all?
To death, death, death
Fuck with the niggas with the guns
And you might get shot, get shot

Get cha gun, get cha gun, did you kill 'em all?
To death, death death
You could be the first to feel the heat
To see how much we got, we got

Pull it up, sit up, get up and count up your money
Before it all gets spent up and you wanna get rid of
A hood bitch with game and every bitch said I'm a good bitch
Fuckin' with the wood grain

Everybody still playin' that hood game quiet
Especially when it's tired
My environment ain't nothin' but niggas dieing
In them chemical fed injections in Jasper Texas

Split up these niggas off in different sections
Don't hate my message, destiny led to mimic
Chastity for my daughter wad up a niggas Sherm
And come listen to the sermon

Swervin' in my Suburban, lick it up with the bottle
But everybody know I got some problems
Had dreams of the Apollo
The fiends had faith in me, suckas wouldn't run

A nigga not insane, niggas still with me
Bone, somehow they turn up
Run up and get your sign
Run blindly, elevate through time nowhere to hide

Our dawgs finna haul off lead sawed-off head
Nigga you drippin' soakin' with bloody body be beggin' me
You know what you should've capped like 2 Pac with a glock
They're deadly, better not upset my thug mentality sucker

You know you done fucked up, don't you niggas?
Runnin' up blastin' gas craters
What the fuck you thought you saw with your head in the sky?
Could it be a bird or maybe it's even a plane for the untamed

Insane human only the Fifth Dawg
Fuck you thought motherfucker fame
For the fact the shit is a phat game
Going remain number one in the Land

Flesh, strangle the gang, bang bang, bang
I dropped five guards in the name of the Lord I say
Now how many times will I have to slay today?
Will I raise my guage? Oh God

How will I teach ya, but it's these tactics that he daily practice
They gonna let you don't have it?
Have it, runnin up you sons of bastards
Blast it, we sons of assassins

Match it, collecting more cash
That's true, you're feeling that
Niggas said all my babies get a million
Struggle with a villain, hit 'em with a venomous blow

I call on my mighty Archangel
Gonna surround my soul but go with the calico yo'
We the tightest you know Mo, the Mighty
Yes trues humbly united my family never divided

Desperado, Thug Line, Mo Thug, Millennium, Seventh Sign
For the FBI you wanna come test my enterprise?
Bitch you better go think twice and open up your motherfucking eyes
These niggas can't fuck with the fifth dawg finna parlay

Everyday stormin' your way you better lay low
So you might just duck when I buck guage
Can't you see my niggas having a ball all day
Since we having a ball all day, motherfuckers player hate

Get cha gun, get cha gun, did you kill 'em all?
To death, death, death
Fuck with the niggas with the guns
And you might get shot, get shot

Get cha gun, get cha gun, did you kill 'em all?
To death, death death
You could be the first to feel the heat
To see how much we got, we got

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3326807b0cdffe9464e9c80e10291e07

2 Glocks [U-Neek'S Remix] - Lyrics - The Collection: Vol. 2 - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: 2 Glocks [U-Neek'S Remix]
Album: The Collection: Vol. 2
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Charles Scruggs, Jimmy Thomas, Bone Bryon Mccane, Stanley Howse, Anthony Henderson

Lyric:
Give it to 'em, bring your gun
Give it to 'em, bring your gun

Get cha gun, get cha gun, did you kill 'em all?
To death, death, death
Fuck with the niggas with the guns
And you might get shot, get shot

Get cha gun, get cha gun, did you kill 'em all?
To death, death death
You could be the first to feel the heat
To see how much we got, we got

I still be the thuggish ruggish nigga
Dressed in all black khakis, fatigues, and boots
Still don't give a fuck about the law
Still run with a pump in my car and fuck who you are

You're fucking with a couple of niggas that's really insane
I'm talking loco, crazy as hell, it ain't just a name
It's the game and we done loosened up a couple strings
And shook a couple of screws loose in my brain

Besides that, ain't nothin' changed
Look at me now I'm still a thug, nigga I still smoke bud
You know I still represent St. Clair wig split shit, nigga what?
This is Bone Thugs niggas

Thinkin' I told you but we put it down like that
And whoever we got to fuck up to prove that we do it
And keep on movin, guess who's back up in the house?
Original Cleveland Criminals

Niggas just send em subliminal messages
Like 'Murda, mo murder murder'
Never forgot where we come from
Watch how you move your tongue

'Cause I got niggas that's ready to jump off in your ass
And smash and crash, protect my niggas for combat
Leathaface at ya and on your ass like I was a heat seeker
Quickly the reaper peep you, sweep you off your feet in Cleveland

I be the smoothest little nigga you can meet me
But nigga you fuck with me then I'm a fuck with you
Introduce you to this heat, I sweep the street
When I draw down, let me hear you say, "Fuck the law now"

Rawest niggas in the town ready to thug and go down
Go pound for pound, nigga that's the motto
Let me see you throw them things and if it's real
Nigga keep it real show me your game

I'm sure gonna claim what the fuck is mine
My nigga I'll take it grab a player hater by the neck
Choke him out and try to break it
Gimme your money, drop them keys

It's a jack move bitch and since you haters ain't got no business
That's how we attack your shit
Nigga we'll smack your bitch in the middle of the Grammy
And the media might ban me, nigga this Mo Thug Family is for real

Get cha gun, get cha gun, did you kill 'em all?
To death, death, death
Fuck with the niggas with the guns
And you might get shot, get shot

Get cha gun, get cha gun, did you kill 'em all?
To death, death death
You could be the first to feel the heat
To see how much we got, we got

Pull it up, sit up, get up and count up your money
Before it all gets spent up and you wanna get rid of
A hood bitch with game and every bitch said I'm a good bitch
Fuckin' with the wood grain

Everybody still playin' that hood game quiet
Especially when it's tired
My environment ain't nothin' but niggas dieing
In them chemical fed injections in Jasper Texas

Split up these niggas off in different sections
Don't hate my message, destiny led to mimic
Chastity for my daughter wad up a niggas Sherm
And come listen to the sermon

Swervin' in my Suburban, lick it up with the bottle
But everybody know I got some problems
Had dreams of the Apollo
The fiends had faith in me, suckas wouldn't run

A nigga not insane, niggas still with me
Bone, somehow they turn up
Run up and get your sign
Run blindly, elevate through time nowhere to hide

Our dawgs finna haul off lead sawed-off head
Nigga you drippin' soakin' with bloody body be beggin' me
You know what you should've capped like 2 Pac with a glock
They're deadly, better not upset my thug mentality sucker

You know you done fucked up, don't you niggas?
Runnin' up blastin' gas craters
What the fuck you thought you saw with your head in the sky?
Could it be a bird or maybe it's even a plane for the untamed

Insane human only the Fifth Dawg
Fuck you thought motherfucker fame
For the fact the shit is a phat game
Going remain number one in the Land

Flesh, strangle the gang, bang bang, bang
I dropped five guards in the name of the Lord I say
Now how many times will I have to slay today?
Will I raise my guage? Oh God

How will I teach ya, but it's these tactics that he daily practice
They gonna let you don't have it?
Have it, runnin up you sons of bastards
Blast it, we sons of assassins

Match it, collecting more cash
That's true, you're feeling that
Niggas said all my babies get a million
Struggle with a villain, hit 'em with a venomous blow

I call on my mighty Archangel
Gonna surround my soul but go with the calico yo'
We the tightest you know Mo, the Mighty
Yes trues humbly united my family never divided

Desperado, Thug Line, Mo Thug, Millennium, Seventh Sign
For the FBI you wanna come test my enterprise?
Bitch you better go think twice and open up your motherfucking eyes
These niggas can't fuck with the fifth dawg finna parlay

Everyday stormin' your way you better lay low
So you might just duck when I buck guage
Can't you see my niggas having a ball all day
Since we having a ball all day, motherfuckers player hate

Get cha gun, get cha gun, did you kill 'em all?
To death, death, death
Fuck with the niggas with the guns
And you might get shot, get shot

Get cha gun, get cha gun, did you kill 'em all?
To death, death death
You could be the first to feel the heat
To see how much we got, we got

Play the MP3 online for free!

99d951a08483a3f412842a66676b1d93

1 Shot 2 Shot - Lyrics - Eminem

Title: 1 Shot 2 Shot
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Luis Resto, Rufus B Johnson, Ondre C Moore, Denaun M Porter, Von M Carlisle, Marshall B Iii Mathers

Lyric:
I told ya'll mothafuckas I was comin' back
(Oh shit)
What now nigga, what now?
(What are you doin'?)
What?
Proof, the projects, nigga

One shot, two shot, three shots, four shots, all I hear is gunshots
This is where the fun stops, bodies drop, hit the floor, music's off
Party stops, everybody hit the door, somebody's lickin' shots off

Security's gone I'm dropped in the club
And I'm tryna run and get my muthafuckin' gun
(Nigga, what about your wife?)
Nigga fuck my wife, I'm tryin' ta run and save my muthafuckin' life
Oh shit, the shooter's comin'

Bitches hollerin', niggas runnin', people shot all over the floor
And I'm tryin' ta make it to the St. Andrew's door
That's the sound of the glock
Even DJ House fucked around and got shot
I done messed around and forgot my tec
I don't see nobody but Fab Five and Hex

(Kuniva you awright)
These niggas is trippin'
(Where's Bizarre at?)
I'm tryna slip through the exit and get to where my car is at
Bitches screamin' everywhere and niggas is wildin'
Two minutes ago we was all jokin' and smilin'

This chick is clingin' onto me sobbin' and sighin'
Sayin' she didn't mean to diss me earlier and she cryin'
But it's real and it's on and cats is gettin' killed
So I hugged her and used her body as a human shield
And she got hit now she's yellin'
(Don't leave me)

I told her I'd be right back and the dumb bitch believed me
I squeezed through the back door and made my escape
I ran and got my 38, I hope it's not too late

One shot, two shot, three shots, four shots, all I hear is gunshots
This is where the fun stops, bodies drop, hit the floor, music's off
Party stops, everybody hit the door, somebody's lickin' shots off

(I been tryna call you all day, mothafucka, where you at?)
I'm on seven mile, what the fuck was that
Damn somebody hit me from the back
(With they car?)
With a gat nigga and my tire flat
And I just hit a pole, them niggas some hoes

(Is you hit?)
I don't know but I can tell you what they drove
It was a black Mitsubishi
(Shit, that's the clique we beefin' wit)
Man and I was on my way there

Believe me I'm leavin' a caucus today
I'ma park my car and walk the rest of the way
I'm in the mood to strut, my AK ain't even tucked
I'ma meet you at the club, we gon' fuck these hoes up

One shot, two shot, three shots, four shots, all I hear is gunshots
This is where the fun stops, bodies drop, hit the floor, music's off
Party stops, everybody hit the door, somebody's lickin' shots off

I never seen no shit like this is my life before
People are still camped out from the night before
Sleepin' outside the door waitin' in line
Still tryna get inside the club to see D12 perform

The fire marshalls know, the venue's too small
People are wall to wall, three thousand and some odd fans
And some cum-wad from out the parkin' lot
Gets in an argument over a parkin' spot
Decides to pull his gun out and let's a few of 'em off

Missed who he's aimin' for six feet away's the door
Into St. Andrew's hall, now the strays flyin' all over the place
Sprays one bitch in the face, another one of 'em came through the wall
Before anyone could even hear the first shot go off

I'm posted up at the bar havin' a mazel tov
Bullet wizzed right by my ear damn near shot it off
Thank God I'm alive, I gotta find Denaun
And where the fuck is Von, he usually tucks one on him

Wait a minute I think I just saw Bizarre
No, I guess not, what the fuck, oh my God it was
I never saw him run so fast in my life
Look at him haulin' ass, I think he left his wife

There she is on the ground bein' trampled
I go to grab her up by the damn hand but I can't pull her
Goddamn, there just went another damn bullet, I'm hit
My vest is barely able to handle it, it's too thin
If I get hit again I can't do it, I scoop deep
Follow Bizarre's path ran through it

And made it to the front door and collapsed on the steps
Looked up and I seen Swift shootin' it out
But I can't see who he's shootin' it out with
But Denaun's right behind him squeezin' his four fifth

One shot, two shot, three shots, four shots, all I hear is gunshots
This is where the fun stops, bodies drop, hit the floor, music's off
Party stops, everybody hit the door, somebody's lickin' shots off

It's Friday night came to this bitch, right
Big ass to my left and Desert Eagle to my right
I ain't come in this bitch to party, I came in this bitch to fight
Although I can't stay here to fight 'cuz I'm poppin' niggas tonight

That's right bitches I'm drunk with revenge
Shot a bouncer in the neck for tryna check when I get in
Swift told me to meet him here so it's clear that the schmuck that
Shot out the back of his truck is up in this mothafucka

So one shot for the money, two's to stop the show
Third's for the bartender
(There's plenty of shots to go)
(I just wanna know who's drivin' a black Mitsubishi)
He tried to run so Proof shot him in the knee wit a three piece

One shot, two shot, three shots, four shots, all I hear is gunshots
This is where the fun stops, bodies drop, hit the floor, music's off
Party stops, everybody hit the door, somebody's lickin' shots off

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785229b5776c2bb9aafda20e83f73e49

One Shot 2 Shot - Lyrics - Encore - Eminem

Title: One Shot 2 Shot
Album: Encore
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Luis Resto, Rufus B Johnson, Ondre C Moore, Denaun M Porter, Von M Carlisle, Marshall B Iii Mathers

Lyric:
I told ya'll mothafuckas I was comin' back
(Oh shit)
What now nigga, what now?
(What are you doin'?)
What?
Proof, the projects, nigga

One shot, two shot, three shots, four shots, all I hear is gunshots
This is where the fun stops, bodies drop, hit the floor, music's off
Party stops, everybody hit the door, somebody's lickin' shots off

Security's gone I'm dropped in the club
And I'm tryna run and get my muthafuckin' gun
(Nigga, what about your wife?)
Nigga fuck my wife, I'm tryin' ta run and save my muthafuckin' life
Oh shit, the shooter's comin'

Bitches hollerin', niggas runnin', people shot all over the floor
And I'm tryin' ta make it to the St. Andrew's door
That's the sound of the glock
Even DJ House fucked around and got shot
I done messed around and forgot my tec
I don't see nobody but Fab Five and Hex

(Kuniva you awright)
These niggas is trippin'
(Where's Bizarre at?)
I'm tryna slip through the exit and get to where my car is at
Bitches screamin' everywhere and niggas is wildin'
Two minutes ago we was all jokin' and smilin'

This chick is clingin' onto me sobbin' and sighin'
Sayin' she didn't mean to diss me earlier and she cryin'
But it's real and it's on and cats is gettin' killed
So I hugged her and used her body as a human shield
And she got hit now she's yellin'
(Don't leave me)

I told her I'd be right back and the dumb bitch believed me
I squeezed through the back door and made my escape
I ran and got my 38, I hope it's not too late

One shot, two shot, three shots, four shots, all I hear is gunshots
This is where the fun stops, bodies drop, hit the floor, music's off
Party stops, everybody hit the door, somebody's lickin' shots off

(I been tryna call you all day, mothafucka, where you at?)
I'm on seven mile, what the fuck was that
Damn somebody hit me from the back
(With they car?)
With a gat nigga and my tire flat
And I just hit a pole, them niggas some hoes

(Is you hit?)
I don't know but I can tell you what they drove
It was a black Mitsubishi
(Shit, that's the clique we beefin' wit)
Man and I was on my way there

Believe me I'm leavin' a caucus today
I'ma park my car and walk the rest of the way
I'm in the mood to strut, my AK ain't even tucked
I'ma meet you at the club, we gon' fuck these hoes up

One shot, two shot, three shots, four shots, all I hear is gunshots
This is where the fun stops, bodies drop, hit the floor, music's off
Party stops, everybody hit the door, somebody's lickin' shots off

I never seen no shit like this is my life before
People are still camped out from the night before
Sleepin' outside the door waitin' in line
Still tryna get inside the club to see D12 perform

The fire marshalls know, the venue's too small
People are wall to wall, three thousand and some odd fans
And some cum-wad from out the parkin' lot
Gets in an argument over a parkin' spot
Decides to pull his gun out and let's a few of 'em off

Missed who he's aimin' for six feet away's the door
Into St. Andrew's hall, now the strays flyin' all over the place
Sprays one bitch in the face, another one of 'em came through the wall
Before anyone could even hear the first shot go off

I'm posted up at the bar havin' a mazel tov
Bullet wizzed right by my ear damn near shot it off
Thank God I'm alive, I gotta find Denaun
And where the fuck is Von, he usually tucks one on him

Wait a minute I think I just saw Bizarre
No, I guess not, what the fuck, oh my God it was
I never saw him run so fast in my life
Look at him haulin' ass, I think he left his wife

There she is on the ground bein' trampled
I go to grab her up by the damn hand but I can't pull her
Goddamn, there just went another damn bullet, I'm hit
My vest is barely able to handle it, it's too thin
If I get hit again I can't do it, I scoop deep
Follow Bizarre's path ran through it

And made it to the front door and collapsed on the steps
Looked up and I seen Swift shootin' it out
But I can't see who he's shootin' it out with
But Denaun's right behind him squeezin' his four fifth

One shot, two shot, three shots, four shots, all I hear is gunshots
This is where the fun stops, bodies drop, hit the floor, music's off
Party stops, everybody hit the door, somebody's lickin' shots off

It's Friday night came to this bitch, right
Big ass to my left and Desert Eagle to my right
I ain't come in this bitch to party, I came in this bitch to fight
Although I can't stay here to fight 'cuz I'm poppin' niggas tonight

That's right bitches I'm drunk with revenge
Shot a bouncer in the neck for tryna check when I get in
Swift told me to meet him here so it's clear that the schmuck that
Shot out the back of his truck is up in this mothafucka

So one shot for the money, two's to stop the show
Third's for the bartender
(There's plenty of shots to go)
(I just wanna know who's drivin' a black Mitsubishi)
He tried to run so Proof shot him in the knee wit a three piece

One shot, two shot, three shots, four shots, all I hear is gunshots
This is where the fun stops, bodies drop, hit the floor, music's off
Party stops, everybody hit the door, somebody's lickin' shots off

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1fd645093dad51a7a030b307987b8fc1

Bring 'Em Out Dead - Lyrics - Onyx

Title: Bring 'Em Out Dead
Artist: Onyx
Composer(s): Tyrone Taylor, Kirk Jones, Darryl Pittman, Fred Scruggs

Lyric:
Where my wolves at? Yeah
Put your hoodies on, keep your face down low
Anything shining, take that shit
Give a fuck, we in the bar niggas, bitches, let's go

Aiyyo, set it off, let it off, get it off
Get this shit wild like thugs from up north
Fights in the crowd, the shots'll jump off
Body's on the floor, blood on the dance floor

Get stuck at the bar, get robbed at the door
Dropped off at the coat tag door, take it off
Get down, face down to the ground
Kill 'em for their doe like po from uptown

Cut your finger off, send it to your moms house
Never testify no matter how it goes down
When I bark shots you niggas'll duck down
Run up on your block, you niggas get shut down

Give it up, you don't want to try to resist
Before I hit you off, you don't wanna die for this
Un-unh, so we gon load our guns to this
Black mask, face down, motherfuckers gettin' robbed to this

Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
One gun, two gun, three to the head

Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
One gun, two gun, three to the head

Shots'll spill, niggas think it's not for real
Make your body disappear like Copperfield
At the funeral's, don't waste no doctor bills
A lot of niggas ain't kickin' shit I can feel

We gettin' it down real big, that's what we doin'
Give 'em the most raw, that's what we doin'
The game don't understand, the world don't understand
These niggas is gun in hand, you die for these grand

Shot's from the magnum, killin' the gats, smack 'em
You got it back, stab ya, with your own dagger
My sons take your 6, rope you in the closet
The one's that probably even pump the cops up

We got 'em strung with the drugs that we dealin'
Or peelin', some loud niggas, thugs can feel us
And my Brooklyn killers, and my project niggas
And my brother's locked down in the jails can feel it

Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
One gun, two gun, three to the head

Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
One gun, two gun, three to the head

If I don't eat, fuck that everybody starve
Takin' your plate like it's food time in Oz
Motherfucker, I kidnap all your kids
Before I had a record deal, what you thought I did?

Last job I had I was punchin' a clock
Last nigga that I tied up was up at koch
I ain't even need a mask, I ain't bust one shot
Made 'em wire me my money right there in the spot

That's a Cartier watch, nigga take that off
That's a iced out cross, boy take that off
Know what'd happen to your daughter if I don't make that call
Better take me to the bank and get your face plucked off

Hottest nigga in the club 'cause I got the heat
So run boy, run boy, one gun box with me
So step up young'n, show me you gon do
We got big guns nigga that go boom boom boom

Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
One gun, two gun, three to the head

Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
One gun, two gun, three to the head

Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
One gun, two gun, three to the head

Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
Take 'em out, bring 'em out dead
One gun, two gun, three to the head

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cb73edba3c0ccb6bb1b78b95757be505

Out There - Lyrics - Project Pat

Title: Out There
Artist: Project Pat
Composer(s): Paul Beauregard, Earl Patrick Houston, Jordan Houston

Lyric:
Hey pass me a beer man
Here you go
Man that nigga been standing on the same goddamn spot
Slagin' that shit about the last 4-5 days man
Wit the same clothes on, ain't even been home yet

I don't even think so I wonder if he smoking or selling
That shit he had to be smoking or snortin' something
To up for them 4-5 days

Naw, I heard he shot somebody man
For real?
That's the reason why he probably can't go home
Yeah, you know like what you call been missing to man
I think that's the nigga, he suppose to be frontin' his money to

That's why the police been drivin' around so hard
Yeah, burning the spot up man, yeah
Yeah, we might need to gone call 528-CASH
That nigga ass and turn him on in

We need to man to make that little change man
Get some mo beers or something
Yeah, we gone do that

Need to hurry up and gone, turn that nigga ass in man make
This neighborhood probably a little bit safer man
A little bit more
Atleast for us or somthing dang

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Project Pat a nigga that's down for his crown man
If your ass step I'ma be downtown man
4th floor bound man that's if I get caught man
Push me to the edge so it really ain't my fault man

See I gotta die man, don't you even try man
Enemies gone bleed once, I let these bullets fly man
Momma gonna cry man, I like to get high man
Niggas passing plates snortin' line after line man

I got's to get mine man, robbing was the crime man
That a nigga did but I done serve my time man
Put that all behind man, get out on the grind man
Slang some of this dope in the steets or my ride man

See I ain't a fool man, fuck listen to you man
Why you in my grill? And you knowin' we ain't cool man
Project ain't a duck man, see I know waz up man
Get up off my dick like a motherfucking slut man

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Where I'm from man, ain't no sunshine
Only shine on a doggs ass if his ass don't get on the grind
Doin' time help a nigga out to clear up my head
Use to have a shank and a knife that was by my bed

It was said I would end up dead working in the streets
But the streets is the only thang I see payin' me quarter key fuck
Servin' deals rockin' to the shake slangin' guns slangin' TV's
Man, I'm tryin' to make all I can my nigga puncho at a hoes house

Get her drunk, take her to the back, put dick in her mouth
Leave the front door unlocked, my nig turn the radio
Pull the car up into the yard, cleaning out the hoe
You should know that a burglary really ain't for me

I just got out the tentary tryin' to get my feet
Get the cheese off the merchandise, went a bought a deal
Nigga , please you say you don't steal I'ma keep it real

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Hataz like to get a playa twisted in that bullshita
And game splita I'm also a wig splita your ass getta
Shoot up by the 9 mila, your cap I drilla
When fucking with real nigga the chrome trigga

Shall regulate a punk quicker a bullet hit ya
I'm zoned of that brown liquor you need
To get ya nose outta niggas biz quit spreadin' rumors
Like a motherfucking punk bitch, my trunk is the bed
For a kidnapped victim, hollow point hit them pull out my gun
Your hands, you get them up in the air

Ah, because you came to me in error, don't wanna scare ya
See you have manifest in terror I know these bullets
Will pop your shit off like a meleon, let's bust it up man
Fuck man who you tellin' it's armagedeon the North Memphis crack
We sellin' you, pass me the potent weed is what they yellin'

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?

Blunt to my lips, gun on my hip
Rocks in my sock, pocket full of chips
Watchin' for the pigs, splitin' hataz wigs
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?
...

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20190428d160927fbfaaba757ebe5f8a

Pass The Gun Around - Lyrics - Da Da - Alice Cooper

Title: Pass The Gun Around
Album: Da Da
Artist: Alice Cooper
Composer(s): Alice Cooper, Dick Wagner

Lyric:
Sonny wakes up in the morning, feeling kinda sick
Needs a little Stoli Vadka, needs it really quick
Sees a little blood run from his eyes
Feels a little hotel paralyzed

Pass the gun around
Give everyone a shot, give everyone a shot, you gotta
Pass the gun around
And throw me in the local river, let me float away

I wake up watching cartoons, the television's on
There's a couple of party balloons and all my money's gone
She was just a reason to unwind
And actually the last thing I could find

Why don't you, pass the gun around?
Give everyone a shot, give everyone a shot, you better
Pass the gun around
And dump me in the local river, let me float away
Float away, ah float away

Pass the gun around
Give everyone a shot, give everyone a shot, why don't you
Pass the gun around
Throw me in the local river, let me float away

Sonny wakes up in the morning, there's a stranger in his bed
Someone's pounding on the hotel door, he wishes he was dead
I've had so many blackout nights before
I don't think I can take this anymore

Why don't you, pass the gun around?
Give everyone a shot, give everyone a shot
Why don't you, pass the gun around?
Give everyone a shot, give everyone a shot we're gonna

We're gonna pass the gun around
Give everyone a shot, give everyone a shot
We're gonna pass the gun around
Give everyone a shot, give everyone a shot

You gotta pass the gun around
Give everyone a shot, give everyone a shot
You gotta pass the gun around
Give everyone a shot, give everyone a shot
You gotta pass the gun around

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741003610a52ec3bb0697dbad291e298