| When the sun goes down and them guns come out
|
| Them niggas that was talkin' they won’t run they mouth
|
| When them shells start poppin', bodies start droppin'
|
| (It's so quiet you can hear a rat pissin' on cotton)
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| Do you see what I see, can you hear what I hear?
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| All these studio gangsters, year after year
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| With these gimicks I can’t take it, they ain’t real so they fakin' it
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| How did they make it in this game for so long?
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| I know what’s right from what’s wrong, I know what’s soft from what’s hard
|
| I know a federal case from a publicity charge
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| Man I fought tooth and nail to keep them punks out of jail
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| But hoes wanna go to court 'til I pay them for their nails
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| Who you tryin' to be? |
| Man, it couldn’t be me
|
| My man spent guap and bought me my Continental T
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| You spent your advance on your Continental T
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| I know you sick when you clean your rims you still see a Bee
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| And we see you a liar, tryna deny her
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| Jackie O. proved you far from a fighter
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| Comin' at me bitch, you playin' with fire
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| I ain’t gon' come back at you, I’m comin' at your ghostwriters
|
| When the sun goes down and them guns come out
|
| Them niggas that was talkin' they won’t run they mouth
|
| When them shells start poppin', bodies start droppin'
|
| (It's so quiet you can hear a rat pissin' on cotton)
|
| I hear 'em talkin' like they gangster material
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| But I don’t see it man their gangster’s invisible
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| The hot iron’s what them gangsters put into you
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| 'Til you laid up and your gangster’s on critical
|
| Shots get into you bleedin' like my men-e-straul
|
| And if I don’t like you then I won’t pretend to
|
| It’s the ones that befriend you that turn up against you
|
| In the court of law and drop a dime like Sprint do
|
| Supposed to be tough, huh? |
| 'Til them boys touch ya
|
| Chump muh’fuckers start confessin like Usher
|
| I cut you off 'cause I knew I couldn’t trust ya
|
| Lame ass busters, backwards-ass hustlers
|
| You fake phony, you always was lil' homey
|
| Big lil' son baby' boy like Jody
|
| I put you under my wing, bought you your first Roley
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| Nigga I helped raised you, why would I play you?
|
| When the sun goes down and them guns come out
|
| Them niggas that was talkin' they won’t run they mouth
|
| When them shells start poppin', bodies start droppin'
|
| (It's so quiet you can hear a rat pissin' on cotton)
|
| You see it always be them ones talkin' this and that
|
| How they knife game ill and they gun go clap
|
| Them niggas rats, they run and they trap
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| 'Til they run in a trap, and there’s no comin' back
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| It be the same ones talkin' 'bout the guns they sparkin'
|
| The dogs never bite but do a whole lotta barkin'
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| A whole lotta growlin' 'til the wolves start howlin'
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| They pitbull shit, man them niggas straight cowards
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| Got 'em scared to death, pissin' in they trousers
|
| Always was a bitch that’s why I sent his ass flowers
|
| Thanks to the queen he can share 'em with his team
|
| You can run top speed but you can’t dodge the
|
| Got a clean 16 and my spit game mean
|
| Don’t be fooled and deceived, everythin' ain’t what it seems
|
| You act like you don’t know what side of town this realer
|
| Niggas softer than chinchillas but on wax they killers
|
| When the sun goes down and them guns come out
|
| Them niggas that was talkin' they won’t run they mouth
|
| When them shells start poppin', bodies start droppin'
|
| (It's so quiet you can hear a rat pissin' on cotton) |