Lyrics:
to give out to bredren
I had to blow up
That was a must
With that verbal round
My tongues a gun
I had that sharp murderous point piercing from my mouth
probably the hardest verse that I ever recite
I'm in the studio with a gun in my neck it's all right
Surrounded by gangsters, I don't know how they got here
on that corner
But shorty'nem out there they gon' blow for me, that's on that corner
We ain't for nothin' over here
Gotta keep a gun over here, boy
a gun case nigga aight
Chopper hit yo face pumpkin pie
My niggas don't believe in drive bys Niggas be killing kids nigga dat ain't
Aight head comin out
Super Bowl champs celebrate like me
With Escobar cigars, let me say my piece
Money attract money, statewide hustlers
Jewelry sellers exposed by these
Motherfucker comes out
(I never knew I, knew I, knew I'd) Sells a couple of million records
(I never knew I, knew I, knew I'd) And these motherfuckers hit
see me down here hoe I'm doing my best
I run with no rest
When my Granny died, my whole life went left
And my daddy left me out here by myself
I don't
a straight cannon
N' I'm getting the cake can
N' I be out the state tanning
Eating on baked salmon
I'm straight scrambling
Tryna' sell a gram of Ye
But ya
a straight cannon
N' I'm getting the cake can
N' I be out the state tanning
Eating on baked salmon
I'm straight scrambling
Tryna' sell a gram of Ye
But ya
Put your guns out on the table
Throw your bullets on the floor
This weary old house can't take it anymore
From the ovens in the kitchen
I was off the henny the crown the hypnotic
But i think i need me another sip
I was in the city
The town
The whole district
Just tryna sell me
My gun I'll never forget that
My gun I'll never forget that
She ain't been here long, already finna get put out
Don't be crying cus' I ain't called
they put in yo' ear
The only thing I'm transportin is my Naughty hear
I don't sell coke no mo', but still I make fast dough
by slangin records by
Alabama at
That's what niggas get for trying to battle rap
Head shot, should be one and down
No drive-by, but we running guns
A nigga walk up to you,
dope he bought in H-Town
Couldn't sell in Houston, so I guess he figured
I'mma go to Port Arthur and run them fuckin niggaz
Brought his fuckin gun
I'm a get my bum rushed
By some fucking faggots who just wanna pick on a fucking runt
Stand by homos till I pull out a fucking gun
And then you'll run
my niggas he sell guns
Told you niggas I'm the plug
Told you niggas
I got 8ths for the 30
Call my pack steph curry
Bitch you betta fuckin' hurry
For
sell guns at Walmart
I'm not against
The second amendment
Cause when I'm out by myself I'll by a gun my own
Hope I won't have to use it
Hope I won't have
Put your guns out on the table, throw your bullets on the floor
This weary old house can't take it anymore
From the ovens in the kitchen
I was born to take the lead
I shot a gun to make the deed
I took the bleed, To make the creed
Here I am to take the Lead
I took the crib out of your
Same fuck niggas with they hand out
Same stacks on, bring the bands out
Nigga should be workin on they money skeme
Back to the convers, kill em with one
need us or could tell us so long
And every time there's a faction with potential to out sell
We profiteer 'em full of guns and missiles and so go out
smilin' (still trill)
The low life grinders
Give a fuck, I give a fuck, just like 'em (still real)
Hotbox strike you
Livin' life by the gun like
Evacuate the crime seen fast, Why
Heard the feds that are wanted for my ass
Why
I won't touch down till I see do you wanna
Sell out shops
Sellin' em crooked
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