Lyrics:
Yeah
Vlone on my body
Vlone round' nobody
Never bit a bullet of a 12 gauge shotty
No one likes to drink, just the way it feels
They don't like
with me
Alotta new friends
I can't distinguish them
I keep it Oil with some water
You can't see the blend
They tryna use me for attention
I can
Kevlar fucking vests
And fucking hollow point rounds
Going on a rampage
With a stolen 12 gauge
Going on a rampage
A bloody fucking rampage
Going
coming ta serve ya
Nigga we told ya Bone be stalking, (we walking)
Number one assassin
Pick up the pump and it causing the 12-gauge eruption
Let loose
grab that 12 gauge
Cause that's the only way a niggaz gonna get paid
I'm on my way to my old bank
They know me real good and they don't think that I'd
You pussy niggas purp till you purple
Stack pyramids of work for my circle
Private 12 gauge you, get 36 chambers
Ya bitch call you stranger
Gag
to homicide
My city's full of gangbangers and drive-by's
Why do we die at an early age?
He was so young
But still a victim of the 12 gauge
My memories
the rhyme
Just so I could break you off a piece of my mind
I'm cold, hot I could ice an oven
I'm back at it y'all still frontin
Got a 12 gauge I shoot by
been a stranger to homicide
My city's full of gang bangers and drive bys
Why do we die at an early age?
He was so young but still a victim of the 12
shit!
Biggie got the hype shit!
He got the hype shit!
Yo, special shout outs to Junior MAFIA
Y'all know what time it is
My man Fifty Grand, and his man
Bump Dat niggas try to stunt on my click
Then when I get on that shit
I bring it to 'em where they pump at
12 Gauge mossberg no shell in the head
Before
I might take his soul
And I might trade that shit for bread
I keep dying in my sleep
I wake thinking that I'm dead
I cock it back and blast his ass
goddamn 12 gauge
If the pump don't keep ya
I'll be forced to hit ya wit the street sweeper
Ya ass shouldn't have started no static G
12 gun shots
to the number
One score: it's 12, 000, too "I'm
The same as first place
" says the man who must be
Better than all those other
Pieces of shit and then we
Get back
muh'f***er
Makaveli the Don puttin' it down to the fullest, maximum overload
3 Day Theory, Killuminati to your body
With the impact of a 12 gauge shotty
coming ta serve ya
Nigga we told ya Bone be stalking, (we walking)
Number one assassin
Pick up the pump and it causing the 12-gauge eruption
Let loose
clapped
Black was in the Jeep watchin
All these scenes speed by
It was a brown Datsun
And yo nobody in my hood got one
That clown cat's through, blazin
It's epidemic, forgotten, forgotten it got worse
I keep my head on straight, makin' money 'cause it's cursed
Makin' money makes a difference day by day
do
Just hope filled wishes
Pain in my chest when I wake up
Pop me a pill that's prescription drugs
Hits me hard like a 12 gauge slug
Now all this
face at
And the MAC 11 tucked in where da 12 gauge at
When I was 13 had 14 grams of ajax
Turned 15 start spitting 16s
Of straight crack
By 17, 18th
been on the low
On the hush
Like
I show out at
Midnight
Full clips smoking
Like at high times
Fuck the blue light's
Done left 3
Chalk lines
12 gauge pump
Mister
Yeah, hey Mister
Mr. Fourth Quarter, Mr. Make-It-Happen
Mr. Clean, what's the addy? Mr. I-Keep-Your-Bitch-Happy
Mr. Cool, damn, that Mister
irregular?
And if you want to get all hype, I'll have to settle ya
By pullin out my 12-gauge shotgun
And if you want to go rhyme for rhyme, I got some
Dope
of perversion, fuckin bitches on Persian rugs
Washin niggas like detergent, it's the surgeon
Slugs propels from Bobby Steele's 12 gauge
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