Lyrics:
cell.
Camouflage hung in his closet.
Guns all over the wall.
Maps of buildings for engineers
And a book with no numbers to call.
The whole town
world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly
And I
Galveston, oh, Galveston
I still hear your seawaves crashin
While I watch the cannons flashin'
I clean my gun, and dream of Galveston
I still see her
Western movies!
The riders ride, into the night,
Into the West, to see who's gun's the best,
They're all fools, to live by rules,
The rider
take control of the situation
We'll stay forever in this ya commotion
These guns and the roses
That we've got to live with
These guns
lame, but I wanna be on it
Does that make sense?
Anyway, I hope the next song is a banger
Enjoy Machine Gun Kelly's album
What's the album, what are
of bullshit, weak ass albums
Bunch of lil' niggas tryna copy our style
When we originated this, whole mothafuckin' album had hits
That's why we up in the Ritz
gonna buy this place and see it burn
Do back the things it did to you in return
Ah, ah, ah, ah
He said I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war
If you
parties are the shit, forty mags by the scones
I'm fighting for gun rights to shoot a nigga in his dome
Click your fucking heels, there's no place like home
caught the bloody British in the town of New Orleans
We fired our guns and the British kept a-comin'
There wasn't as many as there was a while ago
We
the day Murdoc's tropical ghetto
Was raided by pirates
(Not the eye patch king - those modern
Day ones with machine guns and
No sense of flair) murdoc
On 17 he turned up mean, he already made his bid
He had a name in the fast gun gang and they called him “The Devil Kid."
Now the kid's name grew and his
because it's hypocritical, nigga, you got guns
You surrounded by gangsters and killers, all your niggas
Like, the fuck is you talkin' about?
Nigga, talk
Without a gun and a badge, what do ya got?
A sucker in a uniform waitin' to get shot
By me or another nigga
And with a gat it don't matter if he's
on bail, work on the scale
Put some change on your head, boy, you on sale
Yeah, I'll see you in hell, pop-pop, get well
Make breakfast, 'cause I got you
signs
Still I climb, rockstar, Third Eye Blind (I began to lose control)
I was bored by these albums, so it gotta be time
No reward for the latter, so
the start
This friend of mine would fall apart
Pretending not to see his gun
I said let's go out and have some fun
I know you know
We believe in a land
a smoking gun
Yo now she really stressed bad
Baby by her step dad
Her and lil man
All alone up in Westhave
Tough road and without a car
It's a tough
tambourines
In the cross hairs of some transient gun
Trading desires on the banquet line
La, la, la, la, la, la,
La, la, la, la, la, la,
La, la, la, la
wouldn't harm a fly
He froze in the south end alley
Behind a gin mill left to die
And another died by the bullet at the hand's of a sniper's gun
In
But he done her wrong!
One night Frankie happened to pass by the hotel;
Just casually glanced into a window so high,
And who did she see but her
caught the bloody British in the town of New Orleans
We fired our guns and the British kept a-comin'
There wasn't as many as there was a while ago
We
Coming in, coming in, kill the radio silence
Breakdown in LA
Giving up, giving in to a feeling of violence
There's hell to pay
So, let's light
fun on the bayou
Thibodaux Fontaineaux the place is buzzin'
Kinfolk come to see Yvonne by the dozen
Dress in style and go hog wild me oh my oh
Son
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