Lyrics:
clipping guns and flip them drugs this Wicked J
Everybody in the city wanna be a top dog
But nobody want to feed em' all they ain't top notch
Sound like
dots on the map getting baked into rocks
Nowhere to run nowhere to hide
Do what I like I just ask for a price
Now I live by the gun I dont care if you
lady
What does it take to get you hot and crazy
Pass you a loaded 38 and bust
On fools who play me
This is how I plan a night
First, we ride
niggas using you as a pawn
You see they never loaded they guns
Now you out here all by yourself
Ask Steve Jobs, wealth don't buy health
Beef is best
this gun point is holes, my nigga
Stayin' on my feet, no tappin' on my toes, like Moses, nigga
I told the cops that my car is too fast to pull over,
I don't know how to show this
Where is he at I'm somewhere getting loaded
I had to carry niggas on my shoulders
Ran it up on my own ain't nobody
as this is loaded
She's a player, diarrhea giver
Got a lot to peel and rubber bend 'em
Yeah I play slayer, wipe both our noses
Slash prices like guns
niggaz sippin Apple Boone, this ain't no white cartoon
Cause I be duckin' crazy spades
The kid hold white shit, like blacks rock ashy legs
Why is
airport
Loaded the other automatic
I don't believe this, I'm like a sitting duck stuck in traffic
I'm gettin' nervous as hell, G
A Lincoln Continental
airport
Loaded the other automatic
I don't believe this, I'm like a sitting duck stuck in traffic
I'm gettin' nervous as hell, G
A Lincoln Continental
my teeth till they're razor sharp (clright!)
This way my bite won't just leave a mark (Okay!)
I swear my thoughts (What Time Is It?)
cre like a loaded
can't bear it this deep
Literature burning
Fahrenheit 451
Clean, quick, by fire
Restriction, burn
Every one made equal
A book is a loaded gun
Go breach
and roll it
My business, you shouldn't a told it, your head I'm a forty-four
They switch guns and they go and show it, your pupils is dilating
This rap is
-My homie, LB, he told me about this army
Motherfucker who's got all the
Guns we need! Not that old
School Emmet bullshit neither
- (I'm down, let's
Y'all know what this is (D-Block!)
Oh yeah, by the way
This is the remix (Woo!)
[Chorus]
You can kiss your ass goodbye (d-block, d-block,
Anxiety, brothers trying me
Gun slingers, dead ringers
Yo, my slang's out of this world
Mix collaboration man, little man and his girl
Way of life got
tips
We loaded, we loaded, we loaded
Aye, Milly say gang, I don't think these folks hearing me
We chosen, we chosen, we chosen
Come shop by the pound, we
This is the story of a
Who lives who dies who tells your story
(Da-da-da-dum da-da-da-dum da-da-da-dum)
This is the story of a
Who lives who dies
she prayed to the Lord to take that guy away
And he did he got caught with a loaded gun
And went to jail but first she had his son
Ooohh and now
tell you folks, we got a real problem with guns
In this country, we have people snapping
Almost twice, three, four, five times a year, right?
People
killas be letting they guns blaze... god damn!
[Chorus]
[Masta Killa]
Look she tired of the same old basic, let's face it
This is how she wants
want a little bread
My gun like a pencil loaded, up with lead
Riding and sliding, sticking and moving
I'm dipping and diving through traffic
This car do
like to snort coke, you should see the size of her nose is
We really the ones controllin', no choices
And we got Guns and Roses, Rolls Royces
Beefin'
(Ay, you could turn it down if it get too loud)
(I got money comin' in by the pound)
(My name is JoMNi)
(You better know better)
(You know I'm
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