[Sample]
"You get old enough, you remember a reason why everybody wants to whack you
You believe them all, but you know somebody got to be lying
Or maybe, they're all lying
When you can't see the angles no more, you're in trouble, baby
You're in trouble"
[Hook]
Gun music
f** a ho, slap a foe, smoke a blunt to it
If you're a chump, turn it off, this is dump music
If you're a boss, send them n***as to the store to it
That old school sh**
This is that gun music
f** a ho, slap a foe, smoke a blunt to it
If you're a chump, turn it down, this is thump music
If you're a boss, send them k**ers on a prow to it, now bow to it
This is that gun music
[Verse 1]
f** a hit, radio can s** a dick
I go to MTV and 106 to buck a clip
Shoot that n***a Terrence in his head
If he tell him "f** his mama" then he probably got his parent in his bed
Hardbody, flow should be illegal like a sawed shotty
Come to the Mo, you better call somebody
Slap a sissy a** n***a cause he's sissy a**
I don't need no motherf**ing reason, I'll pick his past
n***as be like, "why you so mad, Nickel?", shut the f** up
I tell the fliest b**h in the world I'm just as stuck up
Yeah, and that's how I feel, fight me about it
Down to do time over this sh**, write me about it
I'm ending any problems, sometimes, I even start them
I take a n***a balls off them, leotard them
Pop go the motherf**ing weasel like a R-A-G-E in Harlem
n***a this is that
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
You know if you murder, I'm here to see you
I got my wife and my n***a, Kino, on pins and needles
They don't know if they gon' get that Royce caught his d**h call
Or that department of corrections collect call
I'm going to hell in a hand basket
I whoop a n***a's a** good, that a**whooping is handcrafted
I rather put them triggers to you cause n***as will sue you
You're f**ed like I just donated my liver to you
If you ain't get that last line n***a, drink with me
I got muscle out here, I roll around with strength with me
Yeah, your boy drinks but your boy thinks
Show up with n***as that's born to be what you boys can't
We're so deep in this motherf**ing club
I got you contemplating leaving your crew like Lloyd Banks
Rather it's fair or not, it you and me
And it ain't nothing between us but air and opportunity, this is that
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
My own cousin say I talk about k**ing too much
He talk about me talking 'bout k**ing too much
What the f** I'm supposed to talk about, world peace?
n***a please, go somewhere and kiss your girl feet
And while you're sitting down peeing, play some R&B
I'ma be making the murder movies, staring me
This sh** here ain't for fakes
If you ain't laid a n***a down, that's bound to be the reason why you can't relate
Y'all n***as can do the hoe sh**
While you're making songs for my chick, I'm somewhere f**ing your b**h
Somewhere over the bridge ordering squid
I rather call it calamari, a rounded Ferrari
For rent is 2600 down like an Atari
I'm sorry, on my life, I'm the life of the party
On my mama's life, I bust before
Realer than any n***a rhyming, f** the flow, this is that
[Hook]
Gun music
f** a ho, slap a foe, smoke a blunt to it
If you're a chump, turn it off, this is dump music
If you're a boss, send them n***as to the store to it
That old school sh**
This is that gun music