Lyrics:
hard, Hittman and Dre
You playin' games, I suggest you know the rules
We puttin' guns to fools, make you run yo' jewels
Take yo' honey and cruise
hard, Hittman and Dre
You playin' games, I suggest you know the rules
We puttin' guns to fools, make you run yo' jewels
Take yo' honey and cruise
pound (grr, go)
It's just another day on the North side (uh)
I'm for real, nigga, you can ask about us, nigga
We earn stripes on the North side
Just
that b***h stuck Ooo
My money taller than you
No I'm not walkin by you
You made a lil thousand or 2
I spent that sh*t on some shoes
Walk in the club with
we was cracking the trays run up on the opp
We would laugh in his face right before we put the Glock to the back of his fade
This shit don't change
seen us on the ave, anxious to get you
By my penis is a mag, when I lift, it hit you
'Cause I don't go nowhere without my pistol, pistol
Second
place. we wolf hounds and we ace
Just a keep a frown poker face, we gone hold it down in this maze
Pistol packed with the mag, that’s that shit we fuck
Nigga, we, we been through all of this before
Cocaine in a drawer
Pistol by the pocket, baby, ready for a war
Comin' from the bottom, scratchin'
titties
Smoke a blunt or two
So put your hands up in the
Air like it's a pistol present
It's The Village triple 7s
Keep it simple man
All we do is wrap
Mr. Zone 6'er, rock two pistols (bow)
Mr. Zone 6'er, rock two pistols (bow)
Fucked three sisters, iced out crystals
Mi-Mr. Zone 6'er, Mi-Mr.
way before he ever had a placement (on God)
Dead bodies in the bando, we called it a vacant (bando)
Smokin', drinkin', sellin' dope but I was
we won't stop, I let the '44 pop
Tanqueray and Alize' make niggas get shot
I'm smokin on some kush baby, you know it's all Gravy
Calicos, AK's,
Run down, show fuck niggas what the AR do
We gon' whack his head for
Tryna play my move
He wanna play too cool, so fuck it
That's what we do, fuck
off the Hen, I was smokin', I got too high
Damn, time flies by
It's like I knew your whole lifetime, my nigga
We accomplished so much shit
We
shit
Do that shit, do that shit
Fuck boy, where you at, ima run that shit
Than we run that shit
Run that shit, run that shit
When I find where you at
Ima
scam
Them treat us abnormal
Lesser than animal
We no go leave am
Mbaa, Ooyadiba
So come to the table
Bring your pencil or some pistol
Let's talk
instrumental by: G.U.S. - “22ndCentury”
written by: R.PsYCh WiTtiD
HOOK
OOOOOHHH RAH
[RAH RAH RAH]
ITS DOOO
OR DIE [DIE DIE DIE]
WE ARE THE FEW
[I SAID]
WE
the way up
I'm all the way up
Nothing can stop me, I'm all the way up
Shorty what you want? Shorty what you need?
My niggas run the game, we ain't
bitch without a switch
That bitch be sounding like a rifle
Squeeze this bitch until it click
We back shit up all in traffic
Catch a opp and face that
boy
Cadillac, weed, pistol on his lap, boy
Home run hitter, thought I was a batboy
Search warrant for the crib, you better get a map for it
Paid
Hop I be swervin' crossover like Erving
Dont see me no mobster don't run with no rookies
He calling say my bro took it we might have to see 'em
out here scheming
We gone bust yo window
Get it by any means though
Niggas packing Pistols
Bitches out here scheming
We gone bust yo windows
Get it by
twist of harmony we smokin' lethal warriors
We warriors, we warriors, we warriors
And it ain't no mystery the pistol'll be and I better put it under my
a knife, and won.
Left with this pistol that left him dead and I, shot and run.
Just because my verse second, don't mean that I'm not the one when I'm
Discuss these we run it by 2 pistols Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In