Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Looking Down the Barrel, artist - Black Moon. Album song Total Eclipse, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 06.10.2003
Record label: Duck Down
Song language: English
Looking Down the Barrel |
| BD bubble up like a branded tattoo |
| Outlandish and got plans to get at you |
| Rap dudes, but half dudes really think that I Fell off, you can get the ball to your left eye |
| Look, ball or crook, where I’m from |
| If a nigga is shook, they call him a mook |
| You guessed it, the Brook, let’s him them books |
| And read a classic, Jimmy 'Fly'Snuk', give me mines look |
| Pots is not the reason that I’m out this time |
| For a moment in time, I’m takin’your shine |
| If we was a gun, you an uzi, I’m a nine |
| But I’m accurate, one shell will fill your inside |
| An my life skates, on anybody, anytime |
| Everywhere, everybody, any place |
| It could be a rhyme state, and we could battle for first place |
| But the loser gettin’two in the face |
| Looking down the barrel, of a 12 gauge magnum |
| (And you won’t have a second to learn |
| Or you ain’t have a second to turn |
| Move two spots, the shells hot, shots wreckin’ya perm) |
| I paint the picture like a painter with no brush |
| We not the average, what goes with us Let’s see, gassious, bullet wounds and cuts |
| Rest time for the Moon is up, fix ya tomb and buck |
| Little fuck, attitude, bossy |
| Only thing missing is the coffee |
| But of course, each are free, at the age 10 |
| Seen my first coffin, but I was sharp like cleets |
| So I, stuck with the plan, fuck with the fan |
| Got a label, plus an office, and a custom van |
| But that ain’t interrupt the scan |
| Cuz with no deal, my Set Dip like we fuck with Cam |
| Bucktown to Uptown, Brooklyn to Manhattan |
| We make records, you make raps, so stand back |
| You not on my league, not on our level, either homey |
| Please, little homey, you’ll be Aiyo, gun on my left and knife on my right |
| One in your neck is slicin’your wife |
| Then I, get away clean, put away cream |
| Cuz niggaz might start hatin', violatin’the team |
| I’m blastin’the hatred, I’m blastin’the ancient |
| Niggaz feelin’afridavits, off some faggoty gay shit |
| Go, four-four, nines snatchin’you bracelets |
| I ain’t slow ho, listen, that’s the matrix |
| Ok, I got mine, you get yours |
| Fuck you take ten paces, turn around and draw |
| Squeeze, glock gotta spray, Doc Holiday, nigga |
| I’m your huckleberry, plus don’t give a fuck if any |
| Nigga, get line and learn, motherfucker is you out your mind? |
| I will beat fire and flame, when the fire today |
| Leave you laid out for the doctor to rewire your brain, P! |