Lyrics:
on the bar
Cock back ready for war
Got fans drawing like Billy the Kid
Haters plotting I'll split your wig
Listen just for a nigga to dig
I'm iced up my feel
keep me a K, fuck a kiss
Fuck a kiss
Imma shoot by myself no assist
Ayyy
My choppa gone hit, it won't miss
Won't miss
My choppa gone hit, it won't miss
(hah)
I know the club got enough niggas (huh!)
To slap your face, expert, who the next jerk, to make me
Exert heat? FUKKIT, let me network!
Ha-hah!
Can't lose my juice Billy Jean with the 9
Moon walking on a nigga can't miss shin
north north nigga don't play about mins
Hit that nigga 10 times
knows, you gone die by him
I know you heard gun stories about John Wayne and Billy the Kid
Shit, all them motherfuckers dead
And did you know that every
knows, you gone die by him
I know you heard gun stories about John Wayne and Billy the Kid
Shit, all them motherfuckers dead
And did you know that every
bet we got some
Busta's discuss us, niggas poppin all the Ying-Yang
Still the Dogg Pound Gang (DPG, Man)
Beats still funky, Beats by the Pound in
beef’
What the fuck we bout to do with all these mothafuckin guns
Ammunition by the ton
Pointed right at Gods son
Even modern day Jesus prolly packing him
Ken ke dodo piza bagdah
Gun shot na head ten ki sigi norma
Homies ku fomi no tá pipoca
3Points squad ez nunca ka toca
Grab the Glock, spin the block
the gun like that nigga Billy
She want the dick and she wanna free Willy
I told her to hop on that dick like a lily
I told her to hop on that dick and get
the weed spot, pounds of purp, bowl of cereal
Cartoons is on, my favorite shit is The Smurfs
Now I don't slip when I'm down in the dirt,
cause by this
me
I am my father's son
But like my soul
It is on fire
Even has begun
Mama don't be excited
Billy's got a gun
He's out there on the streets
Seeing
again, I gotta go by noon
Alright, I'm done, I'm done
Fah, fah, yeah
Sire, all my niggas with it, bitch, we don't know how to lose
I got 30 groupie bitches
I got my mind on my money, and I'm not goin' away
So keep on gettin' your paper
For real yeah ain't never had to tell me get this bread
Holiday
a motherfuckin nigga with an attitude
I got a case, of spittin' in a motherfucker's face
So me and my ace, we got a taste
Of a motherfucker's billy club, he took
Sk8-Hi, yeah
Sippin' Blood & Honey, yeah
Oh, oh, oh, yeah
Shawty rock the Sk8-Hi
Trippin', sippin' Blood & Honey, winkin' as she skate by
Uptown by
(Blicky to blicky to blicky to blicky)
Sellin' packs by the laundromat (laundromat)
Once I get up out the hood, I ain't comin' back (never)
But I
it's sex in the city
You whipped out that band by your mans, now he movin' iffy
Hope his family got a funeral planned if he try the dissing
Woke up every
Billy John grew up just west of Waco
He used to bare knuckle fight just for fun
He was as wild as a Texas tornado
And a bull ridin' son of a gun
Die by the bullet when they live by the gun
Why I always gotta roll with a face on my shirt
Gotta keep it on me they ain’t taking me first
Why my niggas
to the underground connect
Pah!! I'm wreckin any MC you select
Yo E, load me in your gun, light the flares
Give me forty-eight bars, and I go out like gays at Billy
let me hear the song by Dixie and the guitar man
And as the dollar falls to the bottom of my jar
I get close but no guitar
I got close but no
som Gandhi
Vill ha en brud som är en festlig jävel som Mr. Bean
Som du kan plocka upp direkt vid vägen som Michelin och Miss Li
Den senare fylld av sig
jewel
We bout to blow up, got your nose up
You could catch a blocka-blocka try to stop or hold us
And your block a whole bust, live news
Ride through
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