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Christ is here
You got something in the bank? Then the dice is here
I could show you how to gamble your money, handle a gun
But be a family man and go
somethin' in the bank? Then the dice is here
I could show you how to gamble your money, handle a gun
But be a family man and go home to your son
Light
let it
I'm 092, yeah, I'm poled
Let it bang out the coupe
I let it boom, let it shoot
Got them 22's in my shoe, yeah
That's on everything, that's
the street
Is when the government spilling it
You could have a hand gun or a cannon
And you still
Without the knowledge and wisdom
And understanding of
A 22
I got guns in the back (baow)
Don't run in my crib, look (woo)
I put guns to your head (look, baow)
Will I shoot you? Nigga, prolly (uh-huh)
It's
phase now they shoot A-K's
So if they kick in your door I suggest you do what they say
These are the facts of life minus them three bitches
They don't
those doves fly on by
While I work to rebuild your old home every day and night
You know the first thing I'll lock inside is that .22 with iron sights

Oh
here
I could show you how to gamble your money, handle a gun
But be a family man and go home to your son
Light a candle where you stand, cause that's
She in love with the bag
Aye daedae that crazy b!tch out there again
One door three n!gga three guns
22 Christian Dior on my son
If I spend a block
can't fuck with yo period
I can let you suck my dick tho

[Verse 1]
Bill folds of 20s
Bank rolls of 100s
Body bags of 50s
Yeah I'm out here gettin money
it in Cleveland

Hey
It's the Fat Al
And I'm from the slab
First nigga put 28's on the jag
20's on the Lac
24's on the cuddy
Pull up in
shooting and laughing
My ratchet blast on top of you bastards
Committing sins in Cincinnati
We'll drive by in all black caddy's
A 21 gun salute
Your
ain't fun, when you're on the run
Got your gold and you got your gun
The life as an outlaw just begun
Got your shotgun by your side
Got your horse
Fuck with me, you know what it is

I shoot you arm, leg, leg, arm, head
The heater burnin' bruises on my hip this year
I shoot your arm, leg,
Fuck with me, you know what it is

I shoot you arm, leg, leg, arm, head
The heater burnin' bruises on my hip this year
I shoot your arm, leg,
shooting and laughing
My ratchet blast on top of you bastards
Committing sins in Cincinnati
We'll drive by in all black caddy's
A 21 gun salute
Your
favorite local gun store
Take the law into your hand, when you know its going down
Pop, pop, shoot, shoot, gun them niggahs down
I use a revolver so
shawty, she the baddest
She gon' roll the weed, shoot the gun, she a savage
She put up with my shit, so if she want it, I'ma grab it
Ice all on your
autograph
Swear to God nigga! Swear to God!
I'm sure his ass won't make a confession
But they can tell by your facial
Expression it's not a lie
You can't
that '22 Rolls
Yeah that '22 Rolls
Picking up hoes
Transporting lows
Man they ain't gon' shoot to kill
Man you know I ain't shoot for real
It's all in my
eyes[01:17.41]Heat me up quick when he grab me by the thighs[01:19.71]The way I watch my nigga back, you would think I'm his spy[01:22.15]But aye, back to the bum
time, she shoot me two times
She shoot me three times, she shoot me four times
And that feels like I've been hit with Rihanna's gun!
Oh, one time
Oh, two
ya[04:01.57]Any whip you rollin in i shoot you take your pounds bro[04:05.11]I'll bust the slugs on any y'all put you under the ground tho[04:08.55]We struggle
Shoot em’
Bury your guns
Burn all your dead
Bury your guns
Burn all your dead
Shoot em’
Bury your guns
Burn all your dead
Bury your guns
Burn all your

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