| yeah uh, GangStarr
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| Crack Man, M.O.P. |
| uh, BX, Brooknam, haha come on
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| living legends, ya heard me?
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| yeah uh yo uh
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| I got seven Mac 11's about eight .38
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| Nine nines, Mac 10's
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| man this shit never end
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| Even if the apple won’t spin
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| I reach in my back pocket and blast you and his twin
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| Niggaz yellin out the window «Joe's at it again»
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| But this bastard’s got lawyers, keep him outta the pen
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| I mean feds wanna knock me just cuz I’m cocky
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| An arrogant fuck, wave «Hi"when they watch me
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| Can’t stop me everytime official
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| Better find my residuals or this nine gon' lift you
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| «He was a fine individual"what the papers scriptured
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| Had him on the front page in his graduation pictures
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| And they probably never hit you if you brought your glock
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| Me and my gat like Wilson, we all we got
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| We walk the scorchin blocks with the hawk on top
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| Even if the old ladies love to call the cops
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| I got guns
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| You got, he got, they got
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| M dot, O dot, P my nigga we got guns
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| Big ones, extra large heat
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| Humongous shit that won’t fit up under your car seat
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| Pop in a heart beat
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| Keep the cannon in my reach
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| Lay you flat on your back like you was tannin on the beach
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| We keep them damn thangs full of hollows
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| And I’m from Christopher bitch, bang with the Wallace
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| Fit raw this nigga you ain’t loco
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| You’re buttocks big boy, your heart pumps Sunoco
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| Brownsville deep in my genes
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| I show you +bad boy+ for real, keep thinkin shit is +Peaches and Cream+
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| We’ll run you down, MO-Ps hunt ya down
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| Gun ya down, guns sing like blaow
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| Raise up cock pot my biscuit for my nigga O.G. |
| had quick shit
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| We got guns
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| We got, we got, they got (GUNS!)
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| Crazy ill, man rowdy
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| I gots it locked
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| Bringin the noise, bringin the funk, pop the lock
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| But only if you feel this shit
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| We got, we got, they got (GUNS!)
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| Crazy ill, man rowdy
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| I gots it locked
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| Bringin the noise, bringin the funk
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| Nowadays my priorities ain’t based on fun
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| I’m tryna cop some more property and in case of them guns
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| Sick society’s got Guru protectin his fam
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| Fuck Prudential, I got my own protection plan
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| Respect me man, I’m on a mission so to speak
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| You’re too dumb to play your position so unique
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| I’ll trade 'way your meat faggot vacate the streets
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| GangStarr, First Fam, and TS, we way deep
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| And even if you had a thought to move on us
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| Our fire power will devour, bitch you’ll chew on dust
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| Slow death, no rep, hollows have you gaspin
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| You rich just for you, he got a lavish casket
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| Call us savage bastards usin all means necessary
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| It’s only customary
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| It’s you we got to bury
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| We’ll dead your homo thug network
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| Head shots make your head jerk
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| My marks-men/man on the roof, he’s an expert
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| Who got a problem? |
| It’s already been established
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| I’ll come through your town with a pound like a savage
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| Still throwin down on the grounds that I’m average
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| Can I hear for a gangster? |
| YEAH NIGGA
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| It’s always some shit but it’s always a clip
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| to re-route your doubts and see what you about
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| Your homeboy’s a snitch and your bossman’s a bitch
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| We takin over these bricks (IS THAT SO?)
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| Doin underhanded shit, I’ll shoot you in your abdomen
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| You fraud, you’re movin like a broad with this faggot shit
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| And you deserve a hole
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| in the back of your motherfuckin head the doctor can’t fix
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| on the concrete, we palm heat like soldiers
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| Spit one in your whip and flip your shit over
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| Keep in mind whatever the nine spit
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| It’s only as good as the nigga behind it bitch
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| We got guns |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Who Got Gunz (Feat. Fat Joe & M.O.P.), artist - Gang Starr. Album song The Ownerz, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп