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3
Rap,West Coast
Tekst piosenki
[Hook]
You can die on the strength of my gun, you heard me?
Mama's cry on the strength of my gun, you heard me?
Ride on the strength of my gun, you heard me?
You heard me, you heard me
[Verse 1]
My gun got many ways to get you
You get hit with a missile and live, you would need barbed wire to stitch you
This is not fictional, this here is typical
I will bring it to your door if you can't see the visual
Black Manson, won't you ask him
How I have sex with the trigger just to make the barrel orgasm
Remember when it started, nobody protected me
Had to make way for school in the mornin' and niggas sweatin' me
Where you from? Like shit, I'm tired of niggas questionin' me
Now I'm in, I gotta have that thing next to me
Went to my pop's closet
The next day I'm pullin' up my pants, grabbin' my crotch and walkin' awkward
Somethin' pop off, then I have somethin' to spark with
By the bus stop like man I wish somebody'd push me
I'mma let the hawk spit, with a killin' instinct
Like some of these students gonna have an early coffin
[Hook x2]
[Verse 2]
Now I got a love Jones for that [?] still on
Michael Jackson niggas, the fifth'll change your skin tone
Sniper guns'll chirp [?]
They'll prolly chirp silent when your Nextel is off speakerphone
How real is that? Never
Now niggas do dirt in daylight cause the [?] is clever
I resign to the fact, that any [?] where the drama is at
I'm reclinin' [?]
Keep your wordplay intact
And 50 couldn't say it better
Can't find you, show me where his mama live at
You a gangsta, I'm not one, but it doesn't mean
By all means, I'm not very able to pump a shotgun
[?] and watch as you [?]
With the MAC or the Ruger, nigga I got options
So while you play possum, I sit and watch 'em
Creepin', Nas got his so you fucked if you don't got one
[Hook x2]
[Bridge]
I don't know about you, but see, baby I'm ruthless
Try to fight me, and see, baby you're useless
Shots from the MAC do more than have you toothless
The sound is exclusive, bang bang bang, boom
[Verse 3]
I explode like a Vietnam bomb
Hotter than firemans but my hand got a firearm
Fire at your arm, titty, and hands, breakin' your palms
Usin' them to snatch purses the brand of Louis Vuitton
Nigga, what type of shit you on? It's simple mass destruction
Revengeance, tension, you see I've had enough
Did I mention? I sniff you pussy niggas out
The smell that you bring has aroma like an incensce
Play matrix, see if you the one
It's a million ways to die and this here is number one
And that's starin' down a barrel of a gun
After I smack you 'til it's gun powder on your tongue
Cause boy them shells get hotter than the sun
And boy when I spit, please be prepared to run
Boy, don't forget to have a vest when I come
Cause I'll hit your chest and clog up your lungs mothafucka
[Hook x2]
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