Lyrics Son of a Gun - Dumbfoundead, matik

Son of a Gun - Dumbfoundead, matik
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

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Artist lyrics: Dumbfoundead