Lyrics Gone - Havoc

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