Lyrics:
stay seated in 1v1
Mmm
Mmm
What have you done
Left with your chick
Guts all sprung
12 Gauge shotty
Son of a gun
Don't run the race
Already won
Told you
Rhyme Syndicate, a storm incubating
The Syndicate's stronger day by day
12-gauge leave suckers brutally
Layin' in the concrete, kick ya face
Your
is wrong
Glaze finna get his mothafuckin' rap on
So would whack DJ's back up off the 12 gauges
Give him some room
While the boom from the stage is
better not she better not bust it
It's 12 am don't hit my line if you not fucking
Who is him, I just clear my mind when I leave it gushing
Screaming fuck
about my past
But 12 years goes by pretty fast
Last year I got harassed
I was pissed and I snapped
I put the fear in them , I was a monster
But
pronouncin it right)
12 gauge unload now your brain exposed
gotta get up out dis game because its gettin to drastic
dodgin bullets cause dey wanna make my
I baby her
Wavin' at her at two crazy
Fugazis, I'm too brazen, three brazees deep
We got 380s and P80
99s, M-10s and M1s and 12 gauges
Shell cases,
havoc
Hell on Earth with Infamous gauge's
Mobbin deep with a infamy phantom
Don't get mad when you see me at him
Fuck a post get rid of the caption
I
rifles and Tecs
And breakin' niggas' necks like bad checks
Outrageous with 12 gauges, 'L.A. Times' front pages
Leaving mingled bodies hangin' on stages
you get hit with this
We run you down like Sonic Hedgehog, 762s take your head off
Say the wrong thing and we lettin' lead off
Whack a opp, you know we
the strap gon' last
Hit me first, take me back to the past
12 gauge ammo, that gun finna smack
Running again and your girl finna smash
Calling me daddy, I'm
feel it in your body
Like if a 12 gauge shottie shell hit your body
You don't want no one to find your ass a hobby
Carbon copy, niggas tryin to clone us
run so fast in my life
Look at him haulin' ass, I think he left his wife
There she is, on the ground, being trampled
I go to grab her up by the damn
run so fast in my life
Look at him haulin' ass, I think he left his wife
There she is, on the ground, being trampled
I go to grab her up by the damn
still head back clippin,
we spin their block we hit his melon had him head back grippin,
pussy got caught by the hellies lucky death didn't grip him,
the trey, it's black but the grip is great
Gang hit about 25 of the 12 that's Christmas day
PTSD from the time that I ying dat man had me feelin' all
folks reload or enter heavy scapeways
We probably get robberies wit 12 gauge technology
So I kill blood spill I show no local modesty
Drop em G pay
A 12 Gauge Sound
[D-Tay:]
I Keep The Dough In, Swing The Chopper And The Pit-Bull Shit
If He Run, He Ain't Gettin One, Get A Clip Full Of It
That's
of a stage, I'm bustin' like a 12-Gauge
You can never bring it to a nigga that'll hang you up
Slip a couple millions up in your drink for you
Homicidal with
done with these feds like
Fuck 12, fuck F E Ds, when I think about 12 I get brain disease
Fuck pigs, fuck cops, wasteman, police
Fuck fuzz, fuck ops
Before I'm judged by 12, put a 12 on my V
Told my niggas, "I need you"
Stay up I know these times ain't true
Real life, what's free
Since a lad, I
the brains, I run the empire
I do what I want, I do as I desire
Let me take a few seconds
And hit you with the truth
Pop a few barz off as my proof
Then I sit
then coward duck your head
You don't know who you be fucking with you'se better off, dead
Is what I say, best run the other way
In case of physical
the mirror match
Uh, I never bang Crip 'til I hang with Crips
You lucky, I ain't had a eight on my hip
You seen days when you seen K's
Was on gauge thinking I
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