Lyrics:
*bang*
GUNS.
*bang* GUNS. GUNS. *bang*
(RUUUUUUUNNNNN!!!!!)
Gee, (GUNS.) there's a real Western story for ya!
(GUNS.)
Gosh, what excitement!
(Quaker Puffed
to Anaheim
Saying: 'If I die I'll sue you"
Roll out the Quaker gun
That crushed the farmer's son
We're stuck in a carousel
And it's a graceless hell
Little
Brought into the fold
Don’t know my neighbors
But know movers and shakers
Stick to our guns like we some Quakers
And like them uh I need all them acres
Portland
Man ah badman
Badda badda badman
Wi nuh fuck around
We will mek a skeleton
Quaker
Tun a pussy inna vapor
Wid di long gun
Only do military have
Yuh
So loyal to the game that I'm takin' oath
It says I won't be fazed that I won't erode
I go against the grain, l'm no quaker oats
I've never been
their forces were losing their resources
moving in the living quick as moving out the corpses
started changing courses, when we got the Quakers
Something is wrong in this nation
When a child can grab a guns
Grab a gun so easily and shoot a bullet
Into the middle of a child?s face as my
Get outta my way when I'm blasting my gun
Got 99 bullets but it only takes one
Got a chrome 45, a razor-sharp machete
La Coka Nostra
The fucking
Quaker toil & Texan oil
Rockets on we're arm in arm
N.A.S.A nude you're manly you
Oh American soldier
America's boy
Gun me down with
count the sheep
Until our Shepherd comes, I'm looking towards the sun
And if it's time to run, nobody told me none
And they gone gun him down, that's why
[Chorus:]
First the gun draws and you know, that something's happening
Then darkness falls and oh, your heart beats rapidly
Be prepared because, war
di place flood out
Hit em up dis ah nuh cricket cyaa run out
Sosa in this bitch when I show up got my gun out
Barry Bonds wid di hits get yuh head dug
up with that fire with a fucking nuke
Got my gun on silence, got that bitch on mute
Got like seven bodies dropping, they ain't even hear me shoot
the memories regarding Nixon
Are a little scary
The girl with the strong arm threatens the Quakers
They all say she's mad you know
The girl with the strong arm
gun
African at heart when I do my bank run
My man Chuck D said my Uzi weighs a ton
Heavy thoughts weigh nothing, each one teach one
I am an alien
a shaky gun faker, like Enzo the Baker
I strip studio rappers lo-tech Amish Quaker
Trip and fall and haul yourself be-boy breaker
And all you never sprayed
in my gun, Deer heads on my walls
Live out in the sticks and wear overalls
why because I want to
Find me a home in a cow town baby Where the buffalo
Chorus:
Hillwood
Hustlaz
You can't
See us
We run
Houston
Thousands
Of tons
First Verse:
I'll take my gun and make you run
'cause it really don't
Walking around
Facing the ground
Sam Galton Junior
Was unpopular
Gunmaker by trade
But Quaker by faith
A walking paradox
And he knew it
Quaker
I just go rap like I'm Google Translator
Your bitches coochie, it be feeling like sandpaper
Toss her out slap her ass with the newspaper
Siege your
Gun toter, pistol starter
Head buster, dome crusher
Wig splitter, big hitter
Dome checker, home wrecker
Chrome fetcher, known heckler
Ooh ooh ooh
Aye,
was rumbling
Now we stay with that iron like we folding
Kel got the golden gun it's like I'm chosen
Living life fast going downhill like we tumbling
the memories regarding Nixon
Are a little scary
The girl with the strong arm threatens the Quakers
They all say she's mad y'know
The girl with the strong arm
dip: we finna smoke a blunt
I can't stunt
Got a hempo: finna fill it with the runts
Do not lump me in with those cowards
They ain't got no guns
When it's
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