Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Gone, artist - Havoc. Date of issue: 09.05.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Gone |
| Yeah… this is what they want, right? |
| Give ‘em what they want, right? |
| Yeah, yeah… thirteen |
| 2013, funny how time flyin' |
| It ain’t a thing changed in regard to the iron |
| Hit you motherfuckers, go push it to the essence |
| Hollow-tip slugs that’ll pierce through the vests |
| Anybody could get it, I send a clear message |
| I ain’t talkin' bout textin', I get down in the trenches |
| Hang ‘em like Texans, give ‘em just enough rope |
| To do it on his own, after that, I’m ghost |
| Posted up back at the crib, gettin' top |
| Guap over hoes, get your hands out the pot |
| Fuck a #1 spot, and your little rap favorites |
| Young, rich and famous, I’m amongst the hood’s greatest |
| All will salute to the criminal element |
| Run up in your residence, catch him in his sleep |
| Niggas so shook they wanna turn a new leaf |
| Cryin' like a bitch when they see the blood leak |
| When it’s on, we ain’t soppin' ‘til somebody’s gone |
| Keep thinkin' it’s a game, get your life gone |
| Your whole team a bunch of cowards |
| Where they at? |
| Gone |
| Give a nigga gun showers then I’m out, gone |
| When it’s on, we ain’t stoppin' ‘til somebody’s gone |
| Keep thinkin' it’s a game, get your life gone |
| Your whole team a bunch of cowards |
| Where they at? |
| Gone |
| Give a nigga gun showers then I’m out, gone |
| I been gettin' paper early, that hustler’s ambition |
| Killer instinct, body anything flinchin' |
| Put niggas on mute, use the .9 like a remote |
| An end to the fuckery you tryin' to promote |
| We was in the same boat ‘til I threw ‘em overboard |
| Fed ‘em to the sharks, give you what your hand called |
| Fall — know I keep the goons on call |
| Ball ‘til I fall, hope you niggas all crawl |
| Fuck your life — I ain’t never gave two fucks |
| Ain’t nothin' to us to have that ass tied up in the trunk |
| In the middle of nowhere, they probably won’t find you |
| Do a nigga dirty, you don’t wanna be my rival |
| Now you caught up in the mix, in some real deep shit |
| I can spot a mile away, niggas never peep shit |
| It’s all about bein' on point and never slippin' |
| Niggas spread they business talkin' like little bitches |
| They asked me what’s good, I tell ‘em I can’t call it |
| Plottin' on the law, if I tell you, I might spoil it |
| Same shit, different toilet — niggas know my resume |
| Have you bleedin' like a pig outside of Heaven’s Gate |
| QB mafia, la Costra Nostra |
| Whole team in the precinct on wanted posters |
| Already on the run, so don’t give a fuck |
| And if we don’t like you, fuckin' get rid of ya |