Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song B.B. Gun, artist - Young Gunz. Date of issue: 31.12.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
B.B. Gun |
| Yeah, Young Gunnaz, State, State, State Prop Chain Gang |
| Yeah, Chad West on the track |
| Sigel, Neef Buck, Peedi Crack, O and Sparks, Freeweezy |
| Yea State Prop Boys back in town |
| Backblock boys, pop boys, back you down |
| I ask is it me, or is it really them |
| Yea I’m young, but y’all ain’t never gonna big Willy hum |
| North Philly, hum keep a big milli hum |
| Them ain’t never been soft, naw dog |
| Y’all really them niggas that be mouthing off |
| Never really got in shit |
| Actin' like you shot the shit |
| But hesitate to pop it off |
| When it’s on, y’all be gone |
| C grip the pistol, drawn |
| Hittin' till them niggas gone |
| Word till my niggas gone |
| This ain’t just a song, this is real shit we live |
| Niggas will get ya kids, hurry niggas switch your homes |
| Don’t forget ya pistol, home, what the fuck you buy it for |
| To catch a fucking body or to show up for them bitches drawling |
| Actin' all big and buff |
| Niggas ain’t really tough |
| Humble, but he might just be the first to call you niggas bluff |
| Have you niggas shittin' puss |
| Bleedin' through the ass |
| C’ll seize a nigga fast |
| Hit you bitches up |
| PC: We want, we want the kid that shot that B.B. Gun |
| YC: Oh yea niggas wanna get on I got some niggas in my click |
| YC: That’ll make your motherfuckin jaws tight |
| PC: We want, we want the kid that shot that B.B. Gun |
| YC: Oh what niggas want to get on thats right I got some niggas in click |
| YC: That’ll hit yall motherfuckas all night |
| Whoo whoop Bucky |
| Yo, bang bang here we go |
| Naw this ain’t radio |
| Load up ya gun music |
| Don’t pull it if you ain’t gonna use it |
| Don’t tempt me nigga, I’m gonna shoot it |
| Trust nigga, you gonna come up missing about mine |
| Thirty shot MP5, spit out nines |
| All hollows in ya gut |
| So you holla when it cuts |
| Let off a dime, then I calm |
| 20 shots’ll follow up |
| You’ll be sparking like a dutch |
| Keep the shit up on a hush |
| Out on bail, fresh outta jail |
| Two cases, I got to fight nigga |
| They sent me down try to right niggas |
| They want me up north, stressing with them White niggas |
| Getting husky, fuck it let twelve judge me |
| Got to keep it on me daily |
| If you got some beef you smell me |
| Listen what you niggas tell me, come out naked |
| So I can be in the spittle, doc pumping I’m wetted |
| But I’mma be both these fuckas give me a second |
| Sig. |
| want Sig. |
| want you bitch niggas still pumping you guns |
| Like pump pellets won’t puncture your lungs |
| Get your toes tagged who wanna slow drag |
| Dance with the devil who wanna play freeze tag with the metal |
| And you it’s like a virus my whole crew sick |
| I’m the truth in the booth with my all blue kicks |
| But tell me why you mad dude like Big Old skits mitts |
| Yea they call me that throwback kid |
| Cause that colt four fifth put big holes and shit |
| And you know I keep my ruger near |
| My back pocket keep the two shot there |
| Line up who wanna see if 2Pac dead |
| You’ll knocked out ya tube socks yea |
| Get your wing tell me thing 2Pac said |
| Until the STOP you niggas not PAC |
| You not MY State Prop mothefucka and |
| Oschino, nigga, SP |
| We want we want |
| That boy in the Porsche with the top in the trunk |
| Oschino long like joker clip all hanging out |
| Money over bitches what this SP gang about |
| Bought it like brotha man gas like son of Sam |
| One through your face leave your stretched like a rubber band |
| You wouldn’t understand you don’t want it fam |
| The MC with the hammer have yall niggas do the running man |
| Born in the ghetto straight form the projects |
| Game like LeBron James but no Nike contract |
| Pitbull red nose six hundred all gold marshland all froze |
| Low top red holes red shoe strings no socks on |
| Mr. Matinee be moving that popcorn |
| Yall niggas should stop drawing your oil paintings stink |
| While we in the kitchen cookin oils till they stink |
| YC: Chitty bang bang all I see in the ghetto is thangs bang |
| YC: Bitches getting drunk and wetted and settle for gang bang |
| YC: Bitch niggas live for what they copy and never |
| YC: Is it just me or do you agree things change |
| YC: Yea… Young Gunnas… Chris and Neef |
| YC: It’s our summer, O and Sparks |
| YC: Peedi Crakk, Freeweezy, B. Sig |
| YC: Holla at ya boys… Yea we doing big things nigga |
| YC: State Prop. Clothing, cartoons, movies, yall niggas know |
| YC: Fuck yall wanna do |
| YC: Young Gunnas nigga… Chris and Neef |
| YC: Get it right nigga |
| PC: We want, we want the kid that shot that B.B. Gun |