Field Mob
Field Mob - Pistol Grip songtekst
Je score:
Nowadays girls and boys wanna lick me Her put her tongue on me him pull his gun onme I won't let 'em get me I stay strapped In case I try to stick her and he try to stick me So I'm... packin my magnums In case I gotta blast one The only time I'm leakin out my head is when I'm sweatin You ain't gon have me layin dead in my Chevy I worked hard for my rings shades and bracelet He left dead came to take it brains eraded He bled red stains in pavement His crane split slain he lay stiff.. think about it... Before you make that move this be ya warning He's ready to be squeezed like an orange Bullets penetrate ya (bleedin like menustration) I'ma empty out (more shells) than in (Run-D.M.C.'s) closet I got my.. Pistol grip on the side of me And ain't no bitch gon catch me slippin cause it ride wit me I got my heater in my lap I'm squeezin on my strap Try me you'll bleed I let it rip empty the clip Run up you'll die in these streets Shawn Jay known to rip a instrumental You can bleed like I wrote pen but this one in a pencil Starvin artist I paint a picture Way I (touch O's) everyday for me like a game of (Twister) Achievement say I'm a legend Ghetto bitches be wishin they could spend a day in my presence I'm stackin plenty dough I stay on cloud nine Like 2Pac in "I Ain't Mad At Cha" video Now start with me I'ma target ya click The (Scope) I got ain't the type you (gargle and spit) It sit on top of the fifth small semi's and 4-4s Heat'll leave a enemy so cold Thirty feet away with one eye squinted You look like the man on the fuckin Public Enemy logo First nigga start shit Watch the tech spray a flame like a airbrush artist Shiit.. I'll die for mine you aint gon take it wit ease You better go (jack monterey) for his (cheese) You run up on me in my 745 Beamer You catch 7 shots from my 45... eat em In my lap is where the heat's kept I ride strapped and I ain't talkin about no seatbelts When I pull shoot and blast I'm aimin at cha head To make sure you dead you better wear a bullsetproof mask It's no secret I keep the nina It sit soul/sole food like sneaker cleaner I sell those pies I tell no lies Cookies same size as Tickle-Me-Elmo's eyes You don't know no dirt I'll put a hole through the head of the horse in ya polo shirt Like a nerd in a science fair hang around projects Bluck! when I stop by