Lyrics:
and departed
Probably blown by a 12 gauge shawty so harshly
They Ronda block so Rousey surrounding spots being cautious
Counting losses in this mosh pit
They
the south legal weapons carry lethal weapons
Try me and the usher by your casket these are my confessions
I'm Bryan Michael Cox with the 12 gauges
Turn your
a change before that 12 gauge rackin[01:09.70]And before those bodies stackin[01:11.71]Bombing cities the latest fashion[01:13.88]Some people showin no
they tell?
Will anyone answer that incessant bell?
Diplomat Motel…what the hell?
Clocks are twelve years out of sync
Better tell time by the pimps
All
though I'm a sinner
Cool, but the strap got a real bad temper
Clash with the titan, then I bet you gon' remember
12 from the gauge, turn your body into
gauge, buckshots come from every way
Got em lost in tha maze betta yet I see you dazed
Be amazed by tha power I possess, that I stress
Turn tha S to a P
to me I'm an idol
Skinny as a rifle, load up my 12-gauge disciple
Make an example out of a rival, Tell him beat it like he Michael
Niggas crying cause I
older
Everybody walks fast
This world has surpassed the ability to keep its composure
I sit alone
Neath a red maple shade tree
And clean old 12
comedy ting, can't complain
Killing with the jokes, the mic is a 12-gauge
Comics on a roll, then the lockdown came
In a dark place like a phantom
Fucking
on the lakers, 24-7 paper chases
On the road to riches, highways of B-12s
You don't wanna see a tear drop from my eye
So you better just move homie and walk on by
and spice and everything nice wasn't made for only girls
GI Joe in panty hose is making room for the one and only
King for a day, princess by dawn
King for
shots, four shots
All I hear is gunshots, this is where the fun stops
Bodies drop, hit the floor, music's off, party stops
Everybody hit the door,
shots, four shots
All I hear is gunshots, this is where the fun stops
Bodies drop, hit the floor, music's off, party stops
Everybody hit the door,
Baby you should enjoy yourself
Bossed up need no help
They say fly girls have more fun
Get wasted like we on the run
First we turn the party out
Then I
Murder they mind state
I just made me a mil' and still militant
This ain't conscious rap, this shit ignorant
Nigga, hair trigger
Ain't no fun when
Leavin the cut in a rage
Loadin up my mac, goin to my crib, to get my 12 gauge
One of my boys just got shot, huh
Fuckin around, in that million
comin' like I'm 2
Or maybe 3 or 4 or just a muthafuckin' crew
Late night see a drive-by drop Impala
The niggas took cover and the bitches all holla
If
bloody, and tattered lying on the pavement
Nothing can save ya, when I'm in a homicidal rage
Nut up, and then start unloading the 12 gauge
Sawed off pump in
the jewels
Take a few, live and learn I don't make the rules
Students ain't safe if Tommy bring a 12 gauge to school
Went some tragic ways if the risk made
paroled
Preparin’ for a long drive
As the story begins to unfold
Drivin’ west in Kansas
In a Chevy painted black
Perry and Dick in the front seat
12-gauge
ways
Wanna have a clean heart before i see my grave
Some how i still end up masked up with this 12 gauge
Switch on the back a the g two now this bitch
livin' life just to die at a young age?
Yeah, he got his face blown off by a 12 gauge
Juice got me sleepy, I been up for like 4 days
Smoke a couple
you're a sleeper
But I'ma be my little brother's keeper
Put him in the spot, let him clock notch
Tryin to keep him safe from the 9s and the 12-gauge
find you in a ditch
This dope ain't yo dope
And these cuts and yo cuts
Yo, but this is my 12 gauge in yo muthafuckin guts
Don't make me pump this
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