Gun Music (feat. Cocoa Brovaz)

Now if I'm out of town

My crew take care of your bodies

The more the merrier

Point and spray the area

**** is quick to bury you

Punk **** feel inferior

Guns make us superior

Cats start acting scarier

Situations get hairier, yo

You know who killing it?

**** saying they militant

The only blood in the street

Is when the government spilling it

You could have a hand gun or a cannon

And you still start the day without the knowledge

And wisdom and understanding of a

.22 Derringer

A .38 long

A .44 Desert Eagle

A Glock Nine

Time to protect the fam, I'm a cock mine

I make the streets run red

Like a stop sign, stop lying

P-poi-poi, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack

Gun man music never take shot back

P-poi-poi, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack

Ghetto red hot round the world, you hear that?

P-poi-poi, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack

Gun man youth never take a shot back

P-poi-poi, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack

Ghetto red hot 'round the world, you hear that?

In Jamaica

In Brooklyn

In Ethiopia

We go there and back

To all my real live soldier cats, where you at?

Dogs don't hold them back

Those the cats that go to straps to blow a back

You could be whoever

A black panther, a lap dancer

When respect is the question

Folks coming with the gat answer

Shoot at your feet like spider make you a tap dancer

What am I, amusing to you?

You better have that answer

Toys for guns, I got guns for toys

Silencers bring the heat without bringing the noise

Bringing the funk of dead bodies

Go ahead bring in your boys

You'll see the soul of black folk like W E B DuBois

Israelis got tanks and Palestinians got rocks

Inmates got shanks and dirty cops, they got Glocks

We got tribes in Africa that listen to Pac

Fighting with brothers who pump biggie

Like they live on the block

P-poi-poi, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack

Gun man music never take shot back

P-poi-poi, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack

Ghetto red hot round the world, you hear that?

P-poi-poi, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack

Gun man youth never take shot back

P-poi-poi, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack

Ghetto red hot round the world, you hear that?

In Jamaica

In Brooklyn

In Ethiopia

We go there and back

To all my real live soldier cats, where you at?

Dogs don't hold them back

Those the cats that go to straps to blow a back

These are the tools of the trade

That we use to get paid

When we cruise on escapades

And escalades with guns to blaze

We been this way since the younger days

Safe from the hunger pains

Bang when the trouble came

Pioneers of gun slang

Supply you with them things

A little something, something

Set fire to the game

My system be thumping

P-poi-poi, the sounds of guns busting

P-poi-poi, your heart just start pumping

From .22 Derringer

A .38 long

A .44 Desert Eagle

A Glock Nine

Time to protect the fam, I'ma cock mine

I make the streets run red

Like a stop sign, stop line

Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, gun Music, y'all

Look, I'm here 'cause I gotta be straight up with you

Be straight up, BJ

We're looking, the BJ wine glass to you, I mean

If you're Talib quality to me, I'm BJ wine glass to you

Now listen, listen, the bottom line is I wanna get bigger

I wanna get better, alright

Bigger is better, and I wanna get def-er

If you wanna quote the, you know, James Todd

Ladies love, ladies love me, why not?

Why shouldn't the ladies love him, he's a good lookin' guy?

Why shouldn't they love him?

I wish I had the pec's on that guy

Now listen to me, now what I'm talkin' about is

When we're in the expansion process, you-you-you're part of the team

You're part of the family, you're la familia, if I may

And the bottom line is this

So it's like costa nostra?

But listen, this is the deal