| Long live the one who got the gun in his hand with his own plan
|
| Long live the grown man with no gun but still he knows the land
|
| Long live the one truest (Truest)
|
| Death to the one foolish (Foolish)
|
| Long live the one who ain’t gon' say shit, he just gon' come bump into you
|
| Death to the man who loves himself less than he loves his fucking jewelry
|
| Long live the man who gon' be the street judge and the fucking jury
|
| Nothing brings a nigga to his senses like a fucking bustin' Ruger
|
| I don’t give a fuck who he is, trust the fucking shooter
|
| So many flows, so many flows, so many flows
|
| Niggas close so many, so so many, so many doors
|
| Nothing brings a nigga to his senses like a fucking bustin' Ruger
|
| The rabbit got the gun now, nigga
|
| Trust the fucking shooter, uh
|
| Nigga I’m focused like a motherfucker
|
| Niggas with me loc’n' like a motherfucker
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| Pencil barrels smoking like a motherfucker
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| When we a rogue shit we chip and dale your whole clique
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| We put you where you folks is
|
| Nigga shoutout to GDs
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| And Chiraq, I rock with the D’s Gs
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| On the car lot like keys please
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| And anywhere you hope to be is hopeless
|
| 'Cause we in the posted like a motherfucker
|
| Shoot the funeral up, to the pulpit, podium
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| Obiturary, smokin' like a motherfucker
|
| Y’all emotional gangsters, 2016 Emo G’s
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| Millennials, from the means streets of beefing through memes tweets, and emojis
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| And Blogs
|
| Sleep on me, I’mma see to it that you see more Z’s (Uh)
|
| When there’s beef I don’t call niggas
|
| Niggas call me and when they call, call the police
|
| If he ain’t grow up wit us
|
| We’d John Doe 'em
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| We John Doe
|
| A nigga quick
|
| Leave his frame tore up, shit
|
| Even Jane Doe her if she with him, Jane Doe a nigga’s bitch
|
| But I ain’t aim for it though
|
| Gun powder and cocaine for my cane corso
|
| I came into your home
|
| Openin' 4−4's
|
| Even though I came in full clothes
|
| Death in the air got me laying mo-low
|
| You could pay for protection
|
| Whoever you with when you disrespect payin' for it, though
|
| The lord is my shepherd
|
| All the people is sheep
|
| Call me the anchor
|
| I come from the bottom
|
| I’m deep when I speak on the violence reporting the evil I see
|
| I know what you thinking
|
| Here we go, another song about a nigga who got a gun but it’s not
|
| It’s a song about a nigga who don’t got a gun getting shot
|
| So many flows, so many flows, so many flows
|
| Niggas close so many, so so many, so many doors
|
| Nothing brings a nigga to his senses like a fucking bustin' Ruger
|
| The rabbit got the gun now, nigga
|
| Trust the fucking shooter, uh
|
| Trust the fucking shooter, uh
|
| For you back out make the moves
|
| Shit I’ve seen this happen a million times
|
| Uh, right, long live all the hustlers that come and cop with straight cash
|
| Long live all the plugs that show love, but still got class
|
| Death to the ones get it on their arm and run off with cash
|
| Long live all the goons who get half just to find their ass
|
| Line your fast, you could never let a minute past rapidly
|
| Long nose, think sneeze at you
|
| You know a nigga sinus bad
|
| Ten nine, you never mind to rag
|
| I sit and wonder how much mind you have
|
| Long flight, had the time to lag
|
| I came from cross the road, to cross the globe
|
| To off the load, to get all kinds of bags
|
| Proceed
|
| You know when I go I OD
|
| Me and my Co-D
|
| Like Orenthal and AC
|
| Roll a Fonto
|
| Got the Bronco lit
|
| Uhh, four-fifth
|
| One four-fifth
|
| Seatbelt strap
|
| Eyes focused
|
| Long live the one who got the gun in his hand with his own plan
|
| Long live the grown man with no gun but still he knows the land
|
| Long live the one truest (Truest)
|
| Death to the one foolish (Foolish)
|
| Long live the one who ain’t gon' say shit, he just gon' come bump into you
|
| Death to the man who loves himself less than he loves his fucking jewelry
|
| Long live the man who gon' be the street judge and the fucking jury
|
| Nothing brings a nigga to his senses like a fucking bustin' Ruger
|
| I don’t give a fuck who he is, trust the fucking shooter
|
| So many flows, so many flows, so many flows
|
| Niggas close so many, so so many, so many doors
|
| Nothing brings a nigga to his senses like a fucking bustin' Ruger
|
| The rabbit got the gun now, nigga |