Lyrics:
curmudgeons get bludgeoned with rhymes made for the lovin
Listened to by your mother, your sister and your cousin
Does it rap? It doesn't, I've spit a bakers
Shit Hurts like a motherfucking gun
When I pull up, Hold up run
Shit, Wait!
I didn't sign for that nah
We didn't sign for that nah
But u had that gun
with a cheeky emote
Here lies BC dying on a hill
Never found one gun, never got one kill
No BC, are you like gone for real?
I'm undone
I'll just hide
Live by the gun die by the same shit you bust
Fly bitches with waves from DC to Cali
Rally and tally up my dough
For the grand finale
Grapevines
on
What will we do when we get old?
Will we walk down the same road?
Will you be there by my side?
Standing strong as the waves roll over
Nights are
drama for the ghetto
More human bodies ignited by metal
Yo, once they gone they never come back
Yo
Fuck that shit 'cause I ain't the one
For a punk motherfucker with a badge and a gun
To be beaten on and thrown in jail
We can go toe to toe in
there ever be a right
Reason? If a kid is
Old enough to drive a car or buy a gun
Isn't he old enough to be held personally
Responsible for what he does
Handle dat
Check
Check
Awoha
Nah man a nuh mi
Mom
Say a prayer fah yuh son
I'm fucking up now
YA'OH -
What have I done?
Watch for the gun pow!
life into the blink of an eye (eye)
And if you see your cloning on a street walking by (by)
Keep on running for your life 'cause only one will survive
arms, bustin' guns with them
We're just thugs for life
Bustin' slugs for life
Forte', Brownsville, Gun tec unite
Fat Joe, BX you know the shit stay
Winfrey, you are the gross national product'
I'll get my guns and ammo, cruise down to LA Ask you for your autograph, and blow you away BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
the west
For they are gathering the blessed
Speaking as one
Oh, and out of the sun
Come angels with guns
Oh, and out of the sun
Come angels with guns
goes for the Jamaican niggas)
Lord have mercy, violent, violent, violent
(New York to Jamaica yo)
Never stop until I sing, me sing, me sing, huh
flow, yo!
Yo I got guns from Italy
Smoke trees considerably
I get saluted by the people
When I’m on my block
Yo I got slugs for snitches
No love for
But its real when the H-N-I-see
And the are-A double P
Strap with them G-you-N-Z
[Chorus]
My gunz popping, your gunz pop
We could go out shot for
Runnin' Like a team. Well, see, I might have slayed y'all. So
for now pack the gun and Hold it in the air. ?cause mc ren has a 100 miles of
runnin
now
Let me see where I started at
Hood cats are part of where it started at
We hustle hard to keep the sharks fear
For the score go to war like
to hold your gun
Know when you don't want it with no one
Live niggas now are after you
And here they come
This nigga thinkin that everybody puss til
He got
KRS and Melodie live together with D-Nice and Harmony
Side by side with Rebecca, D-Square, Sidney
BDP!
Yes!
I got a hundred guns two hundred
views
Cause this is where the guns are manufactured and sold
The land that was stolen stripped of all of its gold
Old timers on the deathbed speakin
yet
Maybe there's no point trying
Cause we're all tired of you blaming other things for all the dying
Guns are part of the problem and it won’t help
when your feet are touchin' (kid a nigga hungry, yeah, he one of ours)
Wipe, them guns off, get that money money
Wipe, a nigga smile, off ain't
see or feel
Exactly
Two gun totin', I seen dimes stole
Ain't nothin' gonna stop me and hon from rollin'
Yeah, we done promotin'
We come for
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