The Game - Heavy Artillery lyrics

Published

0 268 0

The Game - Heavy Artillery lyrics

[Intro: Rick Ross] You know we got em 45s, machine guns We got those grenades on your a**, n***a Boss. Black Wall Street I'm in that bulletproof Maybach...n***a Teflon Don [Verse 1: Rick Ross] n***a talking like a G but walking like a broad I pull up at the light, pineapple in your car n***a I shatter lives, my music camouflage I court k**ers at the center of my synagogue Torture and extortion to the Fortune 500 From the porches to the Porsches with the wides on it 'Fore you snitches b**h, you better put your lives on it Get you twisted body found with them wires on it I get my money smoke extensive like it's Friday sponsored links I'm sitting sideways like I'm in my driveway My sh** pancakes, my sh** 3 wheels You n***as six feet, we gettin 3 meals [Hook:] They got jumped 45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery [Verse 2: Game] Yeah I got 2 gun charges, 2 felonies, just got off probation Today motherf**er, won't budge for no charge Real n***a, I hold no grudge with no thugs Come through spraying, bullets out the McLaaren They ain't meant for you, move b**h, you hard of hearing? I speed off doing 90 with Tha Carter blaring Bust shots in the Cavalier like I ball with Baron Yeah I Blake Griff n***as, make stiff n***as Eminem wasn't Dr. Dre's only sick n***a Insane in the membrane like Soul Assa**ins 12 gauge stop a n***a heart like a bowl of Aspirin I hold automatics, let your man hold the casket Murder game cold as Aspen, body found in the trash bin First 48, they don't find me, case closed Like a rehabilitation spot in Bobby Brown nose Take em back to Boyz in da Hood when I pull the pump out Something like C-Murder on Worldstar when I dump out [Hook] [Verse 3: Beanie Siegel] Ain't nothing changed but them bullets in my clip I still pull it, still bully n***as on the strip Beef, I cook it fully with the fifth And I ain't got no pets, I put a bullet in ya b**h A n***a with a gun in his hand who won't bust it? Like a b**h with a dick in her hand who won't s** it This is the art of war, you n***as just drawing Anything I target on is dearly departed, gone Drive by or walk up on - I just stop, breathe, aim co*k squeeze [?] on the Glock, infrared beam Put your block up on machines while the pussies run and scream

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.