Lyrics:
up slugs
(Show me love!) All of why'all biches want to ride with us
(Mask and gloves!) Up when it's time to fuck bitches
(Wanna be loved!) All you
died we showed the nigga he could never ride
Or fuck with the souljahs
That glide on the Clair side
Runnin' with gauges
Flippin' your pages
Fuck
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
upside down
Here, let me turn this motherfucker up right now
That's why they call me Slim Shady (I'm back)
I'm back (I'm back) (Slim Shady) I'm back
flattened
You don't wanna open up
The missile silo hatches
I will end up in a cell like cytoplasm
The shell give 'em spinal fractures
The gauge is 12
Like
Come against me
It's a suicide
Go big or go home, homie
Do or die
If I gotta choose between you or I
I send a hearse for a Uber
You'd be a fool to ride
the same
Cause you always hold me down
Never ever let you go
Therefore I should let you know girl
I will give up anything back my words up with a ring
Take
Ima choose peace first kinda guy
But I bring the Boom Klahh like Fabolous
This 12 gauge shotty I'm holdin can leave a circumference in Haggred
Hit
of perversion, fuckin bitches on Persian rugs
Washin niggas like detergent, it's the surgeon
Slugs propels from Bobby Steele's 12 gauge
Front page, "Daily
You say it's insanity
It has to be for packing a gun
I'd rather ride with the steel
Than die without one
Now buck on me
And I'll return like
Roch'
Can't forget Westchester
Can't forget, um, CL, hit me off
Feel the funk by the rap czars in sports cars
Comin' atcha now you listen at the feet
It's on now
Feel threatened by this
T-Squad
T.S.
Takin shit
[ VERSE 1: Armageaddon ]
We 12-cylinder-pushin drug dealer-killers, we feelin this
right behind me, it got plenty of clips
Don't slip, I'm here to catch ya
Right between the eyes, bye bye I'ma blast ya
[Chorus]
Let's ride till we lay
the week (Let's go)
Disciples that'll hold a twelve
Gauge when they preach
Writing scriptures that'll take you
Twelve days to repeat
I said these ghetto
Rhyme Syndicate, a storm incubating
The Syndicate's stronger day by day
12-gauge leave suckers brutally
Layin' in the concrete, kick ya face
Your
[Hook: (4x)]
Grab my guage and then erase
Grab my guage and then erase
Ride up on the street
And put some niggas in the front page
[Verse 1:
tight i'm gripping
That trigger finger itching, uhh
It goes... uh huh
It goes down in the south
The 12 gauge in the house
The sharp blades in the house
motherfuckers got Obie Trice shook (what?)
Like I'ma stand here as a man and
Let some queer-ass, funny looking nigga get the upper hand
I got issues, got no
Dark Skies, City lights
On this bus ride
Global dreams, of the kid
I'm Going worldwide
Europe baddies Sending videos to me
My Music been catching
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
*Chorus*
Now why dey wanna see me dead niggas put prices on my head now I got to
Rottwielers by my bed
*Verse 1*
Niggas afraid to see a Gambino
dat shit
I fell in luv wit the green at a young age
Try to run thru my house u meet the 12 gauge
Come here lil baby just do what the boss say
I know
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
Just like some red hot, I got the sauce
12 Gauge with the red dot, knock yo head off
And That nigga a snitch, thats how he got off
Ain't as bad as my
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