Phats Bossalini - Gun Powder lyrics

Verse 1 *(Rame Royal)* I reside In Oakland, California Eastside Ain't no bullsh** I mean to the fullest we ride Be wise if you ain't ready for trigger action n***as may ask ya now When I comes to blastin The sons of fashion It's too much Like gettin touched for rappin Slip the clip in you f**ed Won't even know what happened Unload, close caskets from the cappin Defaced Erased Can't be replaced It's a disgrace Vet players set this pace Can't keep up We leave you wit what? Hit your chest Like kicks from the ba**? Someone should of told you I'm from the old skool Meanin the cold dude wit heat When I hold my two Make your whole body go like Jul's Then disinigrate Slugs penitrate any thug Don't discriminate I mean this Go up in you like intervenous Witness' forgettin this Ain't seen sh** They fiend this Town's Finest Few dank hits YaHighness Wrap that a** up in a blanket like blindness Dump you in the trunk punk Wit the pump, ma**, an semi While I toast yo a** wit the Henny Cuz I'm the type of n***a That's quick to blast f** wit me I bust a cap in that a** Cuz I don't give a f** I buck an keep bailin.... I hope you b**h n***as ain't tellin! Chorus *(Rame Royal)* 2x Duce-duce's Duce-5's 3-80's 3-57's Glocks 4-4's 4-5's An Mac 11's Tech's, AP-9's AR-15's AK-47's Uzi's, M-16's (second time "Uzi's, M-16's" is replaced by "fully auto machines") Verse 2 *(Phats Bossalini)* It was me an Rame In a drop top Mustang Money from caine Wit visions of havin fame I went to Regime M-16's wit red beams To serve crack fiends Tef filled the magazines WHAT?! I'm on a come up Pressin my luck Hold Glocks not givin a f** Fillin my cup to the brim Regrettin my sins I push a Benz f** 10's Plus all they friends They love the bubble man It's Bossi f**in wit mine could be costly Multiple shots Slash yo spot then we outtie AK's Tossin grenades Yo blocks raid When the gun blaze You an yo n***as done hit the pave WHAT?! *(Rame Royal)* (Ra-me!!!) What? (Roy-al!) Gun Powder! (echos twice) (n***a it's Gonzoe!) When shot's reign down from the tower It's Gun Powder Hit yo chest an devour Gun Powder n***a! Bring you to your final hour It's Gun Powder. (echos twice) Verse 3 *(Gonzoe)* I'm 21 now Burn keys of weed down to ashes Make more money Sip Henn outta Champagne gla**es Like n***as Cuz they give us A foul hand to work with I keep takin hits from the deck until it's perfect My sister's smoked out An I'm stuck feedin her kids Work my site phat on the block And it's worth ends So f** it Ain't no luck in this game It's Rame's thinkin I ain't lookin in the police face wit out blinkin Can't crack The eye contact I give that sh** right back Talk to him wit this thang on my lap Maybe it's my habitat My surroundins My world Bout hoochie b**hes Cutla**' Wit 15's poundin It's Gun Powder *(Rame Royal)* Cuz I'm the type of n***a That's quick to blast f** wit me I bust a cap in that a** Cuz I don't give a f** I buck an keep bailin.... I hope you b**h n***as ain't tellin! *(Chorus)* 2x Verse 4 *(Crown Jul)* We got Downtown livin An big city dreams Got my trigger finger An my palms itchin for green Stalkin caps an trench coats Poppin at all them poster n***a kinfolks Best hope is revenge close An get to hoppin I get to choppin dicks off This ain't Lorenna Bobbit They can't stop it I gets off And man you been spotted Red dotted Ya head shot at Bustin 3-57's Pushin 3-50 rocket Up an down the asphalte Catapultin bullets up in them a** holes Full of dope We full of saucy Get the cash flow Drunk n***as be accuarate Be mackin the gats So punk n***as evacuate the area and We raid yo block in caravans Strapped wit 4 Mac's Brought back from Afghanistan Face it Wit Millimeter in hand If you ever need a friend Call the heater man Verse 5 *(Yukmouth)* I got a AK A Tre-8 A Tech-9 An HK Uzi and a chrome 4-5 Stashed outside Skinny n***as don't box I sock n***as in the head wit the Glock Clown they a** wit the Peppermint Snops Pop Extacy an mushroom tops f** the boon docks An come to 6-500 Blocks Wit a batch of rocks stashed in the boom box Posted up Roll the dice n***a broke it up Smoke it up Kryptonite like Fruit Topia I twist ya cap n***as be gettin they caps twisted Caught up in traps f**in wit hood rat b**hes Man I mack b**hes Slap b**hes like Pretty Tony n***as be phonier than Cubic-Zirconi I make you mutha f**as scream "I Miss My Homie" (UGGGHHH!!) Whip out the gun and I would fu*k yo hood Now where you from n***ah!!??