Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Son of a Gun, artist - Dumbfoundead. Album song Dfd, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.10.2011
Record label: Tunecore
Song language: English
Son of a Gun |
When the guns come running out, they don’t care if it’s a sunny day, yeah |
And they don’t come to play, they come to take your life away, yeah |
Watch what you’re saying, watch what you’re doing |
The who’s in front of you, when you don’t have a clue you better check it |
Cause you don’t know who’s ready to press it |
I said you just don’t know |
What you see in your lifetime |
Ever see your pops strike down, your mother on the face |
Blood dripping down to the gutters of your drains |
Screaming yelling a women utterly in pain |
A boy and a girl just watching a boxing match |
The boy had to let the cops in to lock his ass up |
Cuffed in the back seat looking at his drunken ass |
I wanted to sock his ass up |
Momma went crazy and lost her mind |
Lady that you never thought would pop a nine |
Revenge on her mind all our poppa’s crimes |
The drunken abuse and his concubines |
Make a housewife go columbine |
The gun was my uncle’s, saw him all the time |
Smith and Wesson like distant relatives |
Came and visited put us all in line |
Tired of shit |
Momma’s conscience saying fire that shit |
Devil on her shoulder like «I insist» |
All them times of flying fists |
Nights filled with tears of them crying kids |
Fighting inside of the lions den |
Go ahead and pull the trigger on the count of ten |
9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1, never again |
Hot shells falling down on the floor |
Like little rose petals, she loves me or loves me not |
Memories of my own war |
Bang bang and the think tank go bye bye |
You think you’re thunder but this is black rain |
When it rains it pours let it drop drop drop drop |
These are the stories that I take to my grave |
Shoot a few rounds in the sky when I die |
What you see in your lifetime |
Ever seen your homie rob a store and shoot the damn owner in the face |
Fifty bucks in the register, damn what a waste |
Caught up in the crossfire while po-po's chase |
Turn four fours until you can’t go no place |
Gotta give it up now, man you lost this race |
Caught a big fat case, twenty-five to a lifer |
Now he’s in a cell where it ain’t that safe |
Twenty years pass, he’s a lot older, whole lot colder |
Can’t stop won’t stop, code of the streets |
All he knows is, holding the heat |
On parole he’s released, and the first thing he does is |
Go to his peeps, and he sold him a peace |
A nine millimeter that’ll blow you to pieces |
Bring you closer to Jesus |
Now he’s close to losing his freedom |
Oh no, he rolls to the same store |
Where he gave that old man a halo |
Same ol' like the job before |
But he had no idea who he was robbing though |
The son of the man that he shot before |
When he told him to go ahead and pop the drawer |
He reached for the shotgun and shot a hole |
Into the head of the gunman, he lost his soul |