| I’m biggest lifetime combat
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| When there’s beef with a don cat
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| You rhyme with your peoples
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| You get put up in they contract
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| Two steps, rack a gat from the arm strap
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| Whether it be face severs like a wombat
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| NYPD
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| Be careful where you place your palm at
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| Rules to follow, a walking don like Diallo
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| Body donated to science, lungs in a bottle
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| Play and get laid flat as bums on a model
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| No drive-by, connect your ear drum to the nozzle
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| It’s gunplay all day, I fiddle with clips
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| Spray shot in the middle with clicks
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| Get your brains popped to Kibbles 'N Bits
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| Halfway shots are riddle, the risk
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| Ain’t no way pop griddle with this
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| Don’t call it New York this is Gun Ho City!
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| Leave your fuckin' head puffed up like Done Ho Diddy
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| Shit back on your stomach like a fat ho’s titties
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| Everything around me ugly, it ain’t no pretty
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| Don’t pause the green if the slain thrown is iffy
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| Cock back the thing, drop the frame in a jiffy
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| Nigga titsy hoes in your bladder screen
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| Up the risky
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| Fuck a fort, nigga turn up the flames til it’s crispy
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| The flames on the side of your rings like whips in the 50's
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| Separate a nigga head from the frame like a mystic
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| Don’t call it New York, this is Gun Ho City!
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| (Laugh that sounds like Vincent Price)
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| Don’t call it New York, this is Gun Ho City!
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| Don’t call it New York, this is Gun Ho City!
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| I walk in the room in the Dr. Doom costume
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| I consume, the plot resumes
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| Trust me you’re the abductee
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| My trigger finger touchy
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| Try me, see if you lucky
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| Blam slam desplam motherfuckin' mayhem
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| Stupid you can’t contain him cause you trained him
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| Love the bad weather, freckle-faced lepers
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| Can’t go outside, gotta stay together
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| Lodge members don’t attempt to announce my name
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| The brown sage one year away from my crown age
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| Count the ways my sound waves been downplayed
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| USA underground made, I live without fame
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| Hard labor for the data reincarnator
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| Rip your carborator out your car and chase ya, I hate cha
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| I’m the Gun Ho city mayor
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| Who’s in charge out here? |
| Who’s the fuckface, huh?
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| Bang on you, dunk-slam on you, Cani get on you
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| Watch who you talk to, my manager warned you
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| Violatin,' you rhyme weak you libate
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| Put you behind the gate with the five-eight primate
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| I improvise, explode, synthesize flows
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| Like your favorite MC with the wide nose
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| Command shell is a PSP hand held
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| In real time speed I could read fan mail
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| Rip the pound, blitz the town with a two or three round
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| You’ll never want that to go down
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| Spin around and shoot at you
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| 180 degree cupola, attacks to my van on Utica
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| Next stop Gun Ho city, nigga shoot em up
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| G Rap and Canibus PLOO 'em up |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Gun Ho City , by - J-Love. Song from the album The Originator, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп