| Yeah… Peace to the god, Jus Allah
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| Doujah Raze, what up?
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| Snowgoons (Peace)
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| Boot Camp… what up?
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| German Lugers… aiyyo…
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| The god send you back to the Earth from which you came
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| Back smack Earth, wind, fire and rain
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| Elemental, the god get busy to instrumentals
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| Yeah you get busy, but that’s all in your mental
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| I sent you a note sayin', «Son, don’t rhyme»
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| You ain’t listen, in turn he got burnt with the nine
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| Here’s a gun, there’s a gun, just… everywhere's a gun
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| I guess everybody pussy, scared to shoot a fair one
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| I will Larry Holmes your dome, Shane Mosley your homey
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| Felix Trinidad your dad, duke you don’t know me
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| Riddick Bowe my ho, punch the bitch in the face
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| Run up on her like «Anna Mae, eat this cake.»
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| Eat this eight, slugs inside of your mug
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| Got the Eagle from Illegal plus I’m puffin' on drugs
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| I rap for dough, no dough, no rap
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| Freebies get VD, yo ass get «clap,» P!
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| Put a fucking bullet in your lip, swallow this
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| Put a fucking bullet in your lip, swallow this
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| Are your parents home? |
| You’re not old enough to be left alone
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| May I come in? |
| I have to use the telephone
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| So, what’s to do 'round here for fun?
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| I know, show me where dad keeps the guns
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| Look inside the barrel, I think it’s not loaded
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| Pull the trigger back, here, hold it
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| Oops, my bad, you’re fuckin' dead now, look what you did
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| A little soul, arose up out the little kid
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| Are you a bad ghost or a good ghost?
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| Man I’m bored, I gotta go now, thanks, you’ve been a good host
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| Now time to light the good smoke
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| Aww shit, I left the bag of trees in my other cloak
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| I’m tryin' to get blazed, where the fuck is Sean P and Doujah Raze?
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| Each second I’m sober is like days
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| I need the bright green haze inside my head
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| So I can laugh about your silly little child that’s dead
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| Put a fucking bullet in your lip, swallow this
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| Put a fucking bullet in your lip, swallow this
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| Take a toke, this perfect
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| When I fill my lungs with the smoke and start workin'
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| Leave the mic hurtin', murkin' on you mercenaries
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| You ain’t got no rhymes duke, searchin' through the dictionary, keep my diction
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| scary
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| Peep the visionary as I creep precision carry through the deep
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| I throw shade on your sleep, yeah
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| Come one, come all, it’s the bum rush
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| You can find your face on the floor with your lung dust
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| The fuck? |
| These mic skills are no frills
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| And I don’t need the hype of the blow and no pills
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| And I can take a flight 'cross the ocean, no bills
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| And I can keep my height through the low with no ills
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| And I can build overseas with the boom
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| Sean P., Doujah Raze, Jus Allah in the room, yeah
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| Smokin' boom, gettin' regular
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| Tryin' to get some food for the show, madness, et cetera, yeah
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| Snowgoons… DJ Illegal
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| Det… We up in Germany
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| Deutschland, muthafuckas |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Gunz , by - Sean Price. Song from the album The Best of Snowgoons, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп