Lyrics:
Glock carry heavy rounds
Mack carry heavy rounds packed in the Chevy truck
What? You better ring the alarm
Before I cock back, dump on you and your
legions of persuasive words and visions
So the volume had been hidden well, but now it had been freed
For no apparent reason had the woman been drawn in
legions of persuasive words and visions
So the volume had been hidden well, but now it had been freed
For no apparent reason had the woman been drawn in
had to tell
Still damaging my liver killin off all my cells
Mixing codeine with the sprite and the welch
There ain't way around it
Ain't nothing you can
can tell
I'll probably have a cell next to the furnace in hell
I'm sicker than sperm cells with syphilis germs
And I'm hotter than my dick is,
in the morning
And we're packed into a narrow recording
Studio in Burbank, California
The same studio where the 28-year-old rapper
From Philadelphia
at high volume at your own risk
Strange Music will not be responsible for any damages
That may occur during your action of playing this song
This Salva
motherfucker..
{*barking*} Turn me up some
{*more barking} Yo
{*barking*}
[Red imitates an old woman]
Ohh shit! Who those motherfuckers comin in here?
be very cautious the funkin' makes me nauseous. Hate the bogota, The target it ain't off. It's right here and the volume's on three.
See, we keep
me nauseous
Hate the Bogota
The target it ain't off it's right here
And the volume's on three
See, we keep the black plastic
Stuck in the elastics
be me, ye
See I'm a player, got my struggle on
Thinking about the volume and thickness of my bankroll
You see that cash is in my shit like colon cancer
it
And there it is, in your local supermarket
Red and bloody, a corpse, neatly packed
And you wonder about heart attacks?
Come on now man let's
Christian's from hell
Who said, "Let's go to Vegas man"
So he packed up his leather and his red beret
Into that big, bad Christian van
Use revival
niggaz hit the cells
If the line is thick
So I drive the 500, through
The door of the bitch
Yo Red, wassup man?
Aye they ain't tryin'
To let you in
Rich white coke kid
Just a little coping
Lips tight rose red
Columbia romance
All he wanted was a slow dance (uhh)
Lord she really wanna hold
niggaz hit the cells
If the line is thick
So I drive the 500, through
The door of the b****
Yo Red, wassup man?
Aye they ain't tryin'
To let you in
niggaz hit the cells
If the line is thick
So I drive the 500, through
The door of the bitch
Yo Red, wassup man?
Aye they ain't tryin'
To let you in
niggaz hit the cells
If the line is thick
So I drive the 500, through
The door of the bitch
Yo Red, wassup man?
Aye they ain't tryin'
To let you in
glory is true.
Paint the Town Red
Gold's not all that glitters,
And penniless fools cry in there beer,
Staring at broken down castles,
Eyes
Christians from hell
Said, "lets go to Vegas, man."
So he packed up his leather and his red beret
Into that big, bad Christian van.
Use revival meetings like
home, like weezy
Wit the phone
I got commes de garcons
Im tryna get it, get it on
6 cell phones, i aint entitled
Verse 2 russdiculous:
All on red all
to steppin'
She suck the red off the cherry, bandanna red, bloody marry
I smoke a blunt in the mornin', I smoke a blunt after that
I give some bread to my
push-button homes.
Oh, happy day, when all the cells conform
And the exceptional becomes the norm,
When from a test-tube we produce gargantuas or gnomes,
Blood rich fueled up drain me til I'm fully bled
I'm fashion heart stained black but show up in the red
Vampire green eyes translucent white skin
Non
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