BROOKLYN ZU - If I Had A Gun lyrics

rate me

To become a Zu Warrior

One had to be brave, disciplined and selfless

Broadway... Zu...

Good looking on the track, baby

Yo, pass that forty, nigga

Ok...

If I had a gun, and you had a gun

Would you stand there, boy, or would you bust your gun

But I know, that you won't

You scared to death, so duck low

The place that I'm from, is known through the world, nigga

Guns and knives get carried by girls

It's the underground train station, bitches are squirrels and I

Rock a four-four, named him Earl

He go ta twin sister and the handle is pearl

She hide under my shirt, so let's get 'em, girl

Her brother in the trunk, right next to the bird

When a nigga bust off a round, corners get curved

Shoot another one, and together they merge

And'll hit a nigga body, til it's blood in the shirt

His body in the hurse, on the way to the church

And grandma crying, get some tissue out of Archie purse

I'm from a birth place, where memories are built

Numerous bodycounts, no trace of the killa

Only, Zu gorillas wait in alley to hit ya

Take gwop out ya pockets, then pistol whip you

You got guns, we got guns, shit

Try to find a Zu without the God Jewel, it'll never happen

Do I ask for this life, hope she go alright

Momma made new fools, this clip duck and move me

New shoes, so new fools like Pro Tools

Line up fit to the Brook illy next tomb

I heard you say Brooklyn ain't like it used to be

That's because you're pussy and you always like you used to be

You better chill, God, word to Allah, Lord, you terrycloth

A derelict that very soft, don't ever try to double cross

The Knights, that's a double loss, yellow tape ya block off

In the West, it's a showdown, approach then we draw down

If I had a gun, and you had a gun

I take three steps back, bust my gun and empty every one

I had in the cartridge, even the one in the chamber

Real intelligent, bust was raised as a gangbanger

That's why my attitude is Rugged, so I get the fuck it

You bitch made, so what you got a gun, you won't bust it

On Doc Doom, yeah, you can run but you can't hide

Scared to knuckle up, better duck when the slugs fly

I got guns with multiple selections, guns with no discretion

Bullets that change direction and catch you at the intersection

Pop, scaredy cops off, whistle when I pop off

*Whistle*, blow your fucking socks off

Just my desire, get rid of you, if it's a miracle

You'll make it to critical, my bullets'll follow you to the hospital

Catch you in secret places, show up in unusual spaces

Torched with Iron Maiden, ya face get trapped in maces

Go back to back with gats, cop walk the ten paces

Turn around and clap happy, niggas return to they bases

I know real G's from Rally through Cali

From the southern cotton fields, to the Ohio Steel Valley

From the Hills of Hollywood, to India in Bollywood

You get bucked-bucked-bucked, if you don't polly, good...

I wish you would

O.D.B., rest in peace

Brooklyn Zu is about to takeover...