Lyrics:
dolars because they know
When we're on the stage, we're in a mothafuckin' range
So Dre, why don't you get the 12 guage [yeah]
And show 'em how
jails
In the cell, countin' days in this livin' black hell
Do you feel me? Keys to ignition, use at your discretion
Roll with a 12 gauge pump for
be the jumper
12 Gauge I call her rage and love to pump her
Let off a few shots clap clap dump her
And now I'm sitting in my coupe
System banging
beens
And faraway frowns
Trying to be good
By not being 'round
And here in the bar
The piano man's found
Another nail for my heart
If you ever change
too popped if yo ass 2 Pac
Cargos with the 12 gauge shotty in it
Plus I still got a crib on Brazil
I ain't never holly that but I
Got a Maserati in it
jails
In the cell, countin' days in this livin' black hell
Do you feel me? Keys to ignition, use at your discretion
Roll with a 12 gauge pump for
with 12 gauges, L.A. Times front pages
Leavin' mingled bodies hangin' on stages
Collapse fools with raps, peeelin' caps with straps
Twistin' off
band-aids and bought a couple glocks
Had to go on a rampage and hit a couple blocks
Once they hear that 12-gauge that's when the trouble stops
(boom)
If
Two pairs of eyes sat bankside by a lake
Trees hiding the sun but it ain't stopping the bake
Rolling hills rolling jays conversation last for days
watch 'em movin' (ooh)
Ooh, shake 'em out the shoes (shake 'em out the shoes)
Ooh, VVS jewels, GI Jew, nigga what it do, yeah
Probably think it's
back by popular demand and shit
Niggaz want the crown but can't handle it
This rap game's getting scandalous
I done lost my best friend in Los Angeles
the slug from the 12 Guage pump, on chumps
Busting heads like pimples
Hit em in the temple, popping that mental
At the residential, ID'd by the dental
Dip in
of trouble
Double crossed by the law so theres nobody to run to
Yeah, its just me and my sawed off shotgun
Outlaw, call him Leather Face
Im headed for
yuh go heaven
Big mac 11 send yuh fi go rest wid di devil
Bwoy come a tell mi how
Much him ratchet blade
Pump action full him up a 12-gauge pebble
Nuff
Bumpin new shit by NWA
It was "Gangsta Gangsta" at the top of the list
Then I played my own shit, it went somethin like this:
Cruisin down the street in
Bumpin new shit by NWA
It was "Gangsta Gangsta" at the top of the list
Then I played my own shit, it went somethin like this:
Cruisin down the street in
cock the glock and make room
Shit man i got a 12 guage with the infared scope
I found a tec 9 it use to be a radio
But now i'm a g, psycho, crazy
Fuck
they gon' let that bih spray
Gang, snipe 'em, bang bang
No drive-by, this personal, hit you close range
If we really beefin' why you put it
My Shulamite
(Instrumental Version of Love is Better Than Wine, w/Backing Vocals)
By CLEDO
[Intro 2x]
Shulamite in red
Flowers on the bed
Fingers
rifles and Tecs
And breakin' niggas' necks like bad checks
Outrageous with 12 gauges, 'L.A. Times' front pages
Leaving mingled bodies hangin' on stages
outline him
When mi rifle sound
Anada life go down
Nine round
Spit from di bryco
Rise di piece
Coppa coin release
Point it and squeeze
Guns out likkle scout
to the Armageddon, Lord
Know that I won't fly by that lesson
You taught me to pull out my Wesson you brought me
And I'm not stressing it softly
Get 'em up off me,
Bumpin new shit by NWA
It was "Gangsta Gangsta" at the top of the list
Then I played my own shit, it went somethin like this:
Cruisin down the street in
to the Armageddon, Lord
Know that I won't fly by that lesson
You taught me to pull out my Wesson you brought me
And I'm not stressing it softly
Get 'em up off me,
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