Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Still Got The Ammo , by - Snowgoons. Song from the album Black Snow, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 23.06.2008
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Still Got The Ammo |
| I got a hotter steez, drive with exotic keys |
| It’s not at ease, bless niggas like they gotta sneeze |
| Connect blessed me with a lot of trees |
| Now I could plot a freeze, go with the wind when I spot a breeze |
| From fake necklaces to bootleg Timb sales |
| We all about the Malachis of York and stem cells |
| And won’t hesitate to let the trigger blow |
| Cause all of my seeds just make a bigger flow |
| I like the timing, repent for a |
| Leviathan you’re high up in, I write words to violins |
| Cash to stack a van up against the cracker plan |
| The blacker man still get the ammo like Pakistan |
| Nice goal, hit your city and dice roll |
| And slice holes like Lombardi at the Ice Bowl |
| Hit with the wammo, three soldiers coming in camo |
| What up fammo? |
| You know we still got the ammo |
| Man, this shit with ammo and command a grip |
| Staying equipped, moving hand to hand to flip |
| Land and dip with ammo on the man to trip |
| Plan to rip, the gun is like a tongue with a banana clip |
| Man, this shit with ammo and command a grip |
| Staying equipped, moving hand to hand to flip |
| Land and dip with ammo on the man to trip |
| Plan to rip, the gun is like a tongue with a banana clip |
| So it’s like a firearm and they not on safety |
| Play my courts like gods like something like AC |
| Understudy of a Pun drop, and the Jay-Zs |
| Niggas hate me, take three, try to stop me |
| For each and every one of you origami |
| Shit on every track I’m on, portapotty |
| War with poppy, verbally I’m more tsunami |
| You aim on him every time |
| Open sixteen I’m in I can abort your army |
| Iller man manhandle the |
| Still got ammo, your panel now falling to shambles |
| Hang rope, get cancelled like you WB |
| I’m gonna eat, hustle then breeze |
| You ain’t fucking with me |
| Simple math I divide a couple hundred MCs |
| From bricks to lyrics, aim specific |
| We got more shots in the biscuit |
| Talking on scope slip through the darkness and trees |
| Weak or hardest indeed, make every artist |
| My clip full of ammo, magazines come in threes |
| Bootstrap, new rap, symbol on the fatigues |
| Brave years of hardships, now I make that hard shit |
| Moshpit marksmen gun blast regardless |
| Corner the market and set it off like Frankie |
| Cause these niggas just asked and y’all wanna thank me |
| Mainly I boast for the shit that I stand for |
| Allegiance is completed when y’all hitting the dance floor |
| I never lose sight that’s two nights |
| Had more than two fights when they was hogging the mic |
| Modelling type, my looks exceed what you imagine |
| Mid-thirties my nigga and still make it happen |
| I hate the past tense, I rock for now |
| With Snowgoons, J. Sands, Main Flow, sugar high |
| Hey yo my man the east born told me the streets warring |
| Ran the castle, dodge the shells that keep pouring |
| Early morning until the night transforming |
| Far from dormant, the freaks come out without warning |
| The shit’s unlike the north side, Killa county |
| Home sweet home but feeling like an out-of-townie |
| I don’t fuck with snakes but yo they still around me |
| Plus the jake carry heat just to grill a brownie |
| Straight up shit is real, let the trey-eight buck |
| Better not tell a soul when you ain’t wake up |
| Cause them boys know the feds better than they know the ledge |
| Big gates blow the bread on some blow their head |
| Right off the shoulder, the kids getting older |
| And the war’s getting colder so I dip to SoCal |
| Lay low and profile cause I got ammo that make it go blow |