Shootouts

[Produced by Trackmasters] [Verse 1] Yo, release what's in me Besides the Henny, it's eyes that's seen plenty Fiends get skinny as if Queens was a Craig Jenny Instead of diet plans it's crack 200 grams I pump a G-pack, peeping for where the D's at It's slow, lookin' for Rambo, the cop who got grazed Back in the days, chasin' niggas through my project maze That cop he got a death wish He run behind niggas until you breathless Everyday he makin' ten arrests, sheeit My nigga check this, I know the bitch he rest with I even blessed it, forty-dash-ten inspect it (Already checked it Dunn, near his ankle you could see his gun) Peep, he parked his Jeep in the back of the slum To check Tanisha, fat ass real fly, with the blonde caesar Vittadini summer gear, she push the two-seater I heard she brag about the way he eat her A Irish man short slim with a tan, they say he laced her cheeba She do be lookin' weaker, now her teeth are foul Speakin' loud, peep her style, in and out of every reefer cloud Fat ass dissolvin', like cotton candy in a mouth that's starvin' Rock the same gear daily, like a soldier in my squadron I heard she let Jake investigate from her window Cause she's a nympho, suckin' dick and coughin' up info So now it's set up, her and the beast to get wet up I know he vest up, we blazin' from the neck up (Yo let me knock first) Soon as he open it your Gi-Glock burst They had the chains on, son hit the lock first We busted in the cop jerked Jungle popped one in his shirt I grabbed the bitch by her tits, she tried to say she Earth We saw the cameras, tape recorders, and the monitors They eyein us (Nas yo he survived one from the fo'-five) Pull his shades down, they seen his last days now There's no way now, we can be treated just like a slave now Two in the dome, he's laid down, ayo the bitch is saved now She's living in a snitch grave now [Hook] Shootouts is similar to Wild West Broad daylight, face to face without a vest You know the episodes, thugs camouflage the spectacles Please God to save the life that the Devil sold See +It Was Written+ but was never told Peep the jewels black man, it's even better than gold Niggas roll with iron, police roll in hot pursuit Tryin' to stop the loot, fuck Jake, cock and shoot [Verse 2] Still on the streets with my peeps so deep We threw a block party for my man goin' up creek To do his two to four, niggas show love, from all around the board Peace Lord, Sony Handy-Cam on record Pop a bottle, cause when you come home we still got it sewn We can watch the tape play back and just zone Film all the bitches, on the benches with ill extensions We block the streets off, only crew cars can enter Music was loud and it was crowded Barbecued wings we fed the fiends (gamble in the back) Killa shouted And Frank tried to stop the bank loss, about what a Roley cost Guzzled his drink, and staggered off He's a Big Will, used to slang krill, now he own the hill Couldn't take losin' his cash, and I could feel Somethin' in the air yeah, Frank returned with Pierre A gun slinger, who niggas hadn't seen in a year I usually be holdin' - 'specially this type of weekend And everyone except for me had started reachin' They had gats in each others faces, with kids And grandmothers around, Frank's only concern was his paper My man Killa let off, half of them fake niggas jet off Police blitz quick, waitin' for that to set off Runnin' the static, it got me mad cause they a bunch of faggots Startin' shit in my hood, I can't have it Yo High, get the 40-Cali stainless, Jake is still out Let's make it real and still make them niggas famous Dip behind trees in fatigues and squeeze, dodge and weave Hearin' Jake retaliatin', and Wiz was up the alley waitin' We breeze, jump in the ride, heard Pierre died Internal bleedin' inside, and ain't been back since ninety-five [Hook]