Twista
Twista - Artillery songtekst
Je score:
Restraint! Artilerry motherfucker, legit balling bitch but don't get it twisted Ain't no hoes over here Yeah, we got guns nigga, aimed at all you hating bitches From K-Town to the Manor, Holy City to the Wild Hundreds The war is on, and all my killers is riding Todd Nitty, what you got for these hoes (click...clock...blast) I got that 9 double M glock, with the infrared beam dot Aiming at your knot, making your heart stop Yelling out "Fuck Tha Po" who some call it 5-0 Better look out for when they pull that kick door Nothing but gangstas, thats all who I hang with Slanging them thangs with, came up in the game with The fucking hood rats, because them some broke hoes Me get a rich bitch and stick her for her dough The Manor in that K-Town, thats how we put it down Letting off fifty rounds, thats how our shit sound Artillery up the ass, scullies and ski masks 9's and bubble masks, gunning at your ass Motherfucking street thugs, legit ballers Money and the power, moving that flour Taking no shorts and taking no losses Hauling niggas asses off in coffins with that.. One, two, three, 45.'s, Six, seven, eight, nine milli-meter Ten, eleven, twelve gauge pump nigga A nigga riding with stealers, hustlers, killers all my life Legit Ballers bitch, don't even try to fuck with us gangsta's Because we some mobstas You come with that bullshit, then pussy I'll pop ya' See it's that nigga Todd Nitty, that be squeezing triggers like bitches titties Who is it, the most left on nigga, they crept on nigga, with that teflon nigga And it went BLOW! BLOW! body bag that bitch Sent his ass to the morgue with the rest of them snitches I heat 'em up like a motherfucking Newport Left his ass with more holes than a golf course What you thought boy, I'm from that 9th Ward Where them stories are true about them Manor boys How we leaving 'em, bleedin' and crawling on the ground Like he's a dead nigga now I got that love for my nigga Twist, for aid and assistance He told me holsters, caught him up in some bullshit Don't even trips though, I'm heading in your route Soon as I roll up, we puttin' they lights out Poppin' a clip in, with one in the chamber Finna' ride on a stranger, put the hoes life in danger Started letting off hollows, straight through they car door I'm a G from Chicago, pull the game weightless where I go Bustin' pistols with laser injects, putting holes in they Avarex Going straight through your tailored vests, now it's you or your neighbor next Now we got your boy tied up, to the hideout we ride up They gonna show us the stash-pot, with the little handles side up Took the money and lello, and thats hwo the day goes Get the bankroll, gotta gank hoes, and I got the 44. Time to leave finna' go Hit 'em with that...