Lyrics:
at that
Before we pour liquor for the 'grateful dead'
And where I'm from it's even Guns 'N' Roses
And fuck with me you need a bunch of roses
And Lord knows
made the Forbes Cash Kings list
A wave of depression and anxiety for Christmas
But I can never drown, I rose, Kate Winslet
Gassed up, took a quick
could
I frown on bullshit like my name's Clint Eastwood
You come with fronts, stunts 'n poses
I welcome you to my jungle
Like my name was Guns 'n
on my Patek
Took them cuffs off totin' automatics
This the shit we get a rush for
All this rose gold look like duck sauce
In the Maybach with a young
Even the b****** turn Bodies
Wanna be killers they talk About me
Mr. Get to the money or Get shot for your jewelry
Smoke a blunt to get high N***** die
a distance and they scopin' my neck
But these diamonds even cost me M-R and cars on my deck
And I can already vision people sayin I'm wrong
But I rather his
a fucking ass-hole
He makes me sick talking by guns n' roses
I'm an old fashioned rocker, tired of bad drinks
Listening the song of angels: ice rocks in
ran out of all his lip gloss
Guns and Roses, Codeine and pineapple soda
Who's that jumping out the dawn, that's Mr. Mosely
Spent three years in jail,
MTV with Kurt Lod'
With the Q-four-feezy, be hurtin folks
Keep the bird toast, black handle, horoscope hood scandle
You the type of n****s puffin in
tried to kill
Mrs. N9NE
So I had to hit her
With a grill splitter
Never do sex
With a psycho Bianc
Anybody with her
Better pop your trunk
Run better get
redruM, Mr. I-B-N, fool
Oh, that's what Lil Fly would do
Now Killaman what would you do?
First I hit up Crunchy and I get full of that Holy Ghost
[Minister Farrakhan]
Mr. Bush, you better check out your OWN part
in the divine drama. You may find YOU the Devil!
[Chubb Rock]
Listen.. cause in
gun
Here we go, break of day, with a mad lye session
Down in Bucktown it's Black Moon, and Smif-N-Wessun
Pick up the pace 'cause we're right behind
hulk hogan
Still a free man
Like mr. Morgan
N my life is very vital
Like many of organs
Metaphors on steroids
Apple made by android
Got money in the bank
Hated by swine, spreading the H1N1 flu
On some rabies shit, are you for 86?
Population control, make the babies sick
This is a war against
Motherfuckin' NBA Live (uh-huh)
Guns N' Roses in the five CD changer in every single one of my F5's
Bitch, I'm a top ten scholar (uh-huh)
But you know, I did
gone Ball regardless
Hotter than the sun
Got 34 shots in a gun
Call it Charles Barkley
And We might leave this b**** with a few mo bodies
Young n
2 check it
Broomstick gon' hit you wit the broom get it
Mr. pistol totin' ready for it tomb resurrected
Hit a kid rip, ha Smith n Wesson
Check 1 2
on me
You on the wave like the smell of Rose's
Shit I've been moving waves like I'm mr moses
Toasting to these dudes with no bread, but they stay
I'm their shooter
My new guns is plastic, new N.O.R.E.'s a classic
I'ma live the dream yo
No time to sleep yo
If you know what we know
Y'all
this, check it out
[Twista]
Who am I, N**** wid tha blunt, steady trippin, sippin on the concoction,
with tha gun c***tin
Drum knockin, gotta get
Rev. ain't right, his church ain't right
Deacon is a pimp, tell by his eyes
Mrs. Parks said, "Brother Starks, meet you at the numbers spot
Heard you got
precious mill to the ground
They got me
When I stole Mr. Beck's Corvette
His yapping shih tzu riding shotgun
Yeah, I parked it in the lake
when they holdin' a lick
Thugs with the Chevy's, thugs with the trucks
The real gun runner never run when he bust
Henny and he mobs in the front,
.jpg/300px-GNR_London_Stadium_2017_3_(cropped).jpg "Guns N' Roses")
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