Royce Da 5'9" - Gun Harmonizing lyrics

* originally appeared on "Revival" EP without Crooked I "Somebody lift me up, yeahhh And give me a hannnnnd Give me a ride, I'm slidin off the highway There's a curve in the road I don't know when I'm going, crazy" {*vocal gun sounds and scatting for next 22 seconds*} [Royce Da 5'9"] Verbalizin my fiend murder Communicatin while you debatin usin machine squirters Brrrap, that trigger's my tongue, I l-l-lick a n***a That fo'-fifth'll, lift a n***a, whole clique up The Lord call for your soul, it's time to go pick up Answer the horn, it's blowin at you, you cold stiff up My heat, heatin my whole hip up, all we do is court strippers Your metal freezin like it's a morgue zipper I (I) ride around with Preme Not the Preme from Queens, but the Preme from "DWYCK" 'Bout to change the game, 'bout to fly the desert, eagle For y'all people like the wing's the clip, and the barrel's the beak My perilous fleece, I'ma throw on them diamonds I'm a pharaoh deceased, like a spawn was rhymin And, I would advice ya not attempt to New +Temptations+, the gun harmonizin {*vocal gun sounds and scatting for next 22 seconds*} [Royce Da 5'9"] Every bullet's a note I write with a firing pen every time the, trigger pull it's a quote Inside a poof full of smoke Sniffin lines of that gunpowder I'm hotter than a pair of boots and a coat And a turtleneck The best rapper alive could be the best rapper that died, a murderous If you ain't get it by now I'm suicidal I'm wild, a n***a better than me is who I ain't heard of yet So I ain't murdered yet He ain't even been born, his momma's a virgin, she ain't even furtile yet Prepare to get back - next time you take a sh** Stand and turn around and look in the toilet then compare me to THAT Don't compare me to none of these motherf**in Wannabe hustlers tough until they standin in front of me duckin It's off with yo' head n***a 'less you one of them Dodgers We sound off as one, we gun harmonize! {*vocal gun sounds and scatting for next 22 seconds*} [Crooked I] This sh** is musical, my spit is beautiful And if the best rapper died we'd be sittin at Nickel's funeral But we ain't dyin cause our trigger finger nail you As quick as you clip a cuticle, hollows'll hit your follicles I split your wig from far away like a long arm barber Then lift your weight like a strong arm robber Put that on Moses, I rely on my ride As sure as Satan's tongue lyin to God, everybody dyin It's like you standin in a circular firing squad Singers for hire I find him a job You see the gauge baritone, the revolver's a tenor Way the shots spin your body I'ma call 'em "The Spinners" Call 'em "Earth, Wind & Fire", put you beneath the earth, wind and fire Feel the fire that burnt Richard Pryor I'm keepin two guns, I named 'em Romeo and Juliet Make you take five like you and your homies on the movie set BLAOW! {*vocal gun sounds and scatting for next 22 seconds*}