Dumbfoundead - Son of a Gun lyrics

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Dumbfoundead - Son of a Gun lyrics

[Hook 1: Matik] When the guns come running out, they don't care if it's a sunny day, yeah And they don't come to play, they come to take your life away, yeah Watch what you're saying, watch what you're doing The who's in front of you, when you don't have a clue you better check it Cause you don't know who's ready to press it I said you just don't know [Verse 1: Dumbfoundead] What you see in your lifetime Ever see your pops strike down, your mother on the face Blood dripping down to the gutters of your drains Screaming yelling a women utterly in pain A boy and a girl just watching a boxing match The boy had to let the cops in to lock his a** up Cuffed in the back seat looking at his drunken a** I wanted to sock his a** up Momma went crazy and lost her mind Lady that you never thought would pop a nine Revenge on her mind all our poppa's crimes The drunken abuse and his concubines Make a housewife go columbine The gun was my uncle's, saw him all the time Smith and Wesson like distant relatives Came and visited put us all in line Tired of sh** Momma's conscience saying fire that sh** Devil on her shoulder like "I insist" All them times of flying fists Nights filled with tears of them crying kids Fighting inside of the lions den Go ahead and pull the trigger on the count of ten 9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1, never again [Hook 2] Hot shells falling down on the floor Like little rose petals, she loves me or loves me not Memories of my own war Bang bang and the think tank go bye bye You think you're thunder but this is black rain When it rains it pours let it drop drop drop drop These are the stories that I take to my grave Shoot a few rounds in the sky when I die [Hook 1: Matik] [Verse 2: Dumbfoundead] What you see in your lifetime Ever seen your homie rob a store and shoot the damn owner in the face Fifty bucks in the register, damn what a waste Caught up in the crossfire while po-po's chase Turn four fours until you can't go no place Gotta give it up now, man you lost this race Caught a big fat case, twenty-five to a lifer Now he's in a cell where it ain't that safe Twenty years pa**, he's a lot older, whole lot colder Can't stop won't stop, code of the streets All he knows is, holding the heat On parole he's released, and the first thing he does is Go to his peeps, and he sold him a peace A nine millimeter that'll blow you to pieces Bring you closer to Jesus Now he's close to losing his freedom Oh no, he rolls to the same store Where he gave that old man a halo Same ol' like the job before But he had no idea who he was robbing though The son of the man that he shot before When he told him to go ahead and pop the drawer He reached for the shotgun and shot a hole Into the head of the gunman, he lost his soul [Hook 1]

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