Lox - Bust Your Gun (Feat. Styles & Sheek) lyrics
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Shit is crazy.. can't believe it<br />
Ha, haha, oooh, shit<br />
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We don't give a fuck about you frostin' ya hand (fuck),<br />
Cause knockin' off these bricks then often yo' man<br />
That's the kinda boss that I am (why not),<br />
And I'ma play shotgun, smoke the pores make a van<br />
Hollarin' at you so deep and so sick wit' the guns<br />
When I walk by the wake I want the cough in the stand (stand up)<br />
So hold up for one minute (what)<br />
You won't catch me in the tub, in the whip,<br />
Or the club without a gun in it,<br />
And don't come through the strip, <br />
Lookin' hard in the car, with ya motherfuckin' daughter and ya son in it<br />
Lately I been missin' my fred, the roof pop (too hot), <br />
But feel me cause he hittin' the stairs, the truth pop<br />
Niggaz think this album cuts (haha!)<br />
I'm like fuck it, I'm the nigga comin through the door wit two revolvers up (two 'em),<br />
And I'm takin' all drama, <br />
And I spent twenty thou' motherfucker so I just got more problems<br />
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[Chorus]<br />
You got'sta bust yo' gun, <br />
Cause if you don't then niggaz know you won't they gon' touch yo' ones<br />
Got'sta bend yo' knife,<br />
Cause if you don't then niggaz know you won't they gon' change yo' life<br />
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Aiyyo, who gotta my name huh?<br />
Who think it's a fuckin' game (c'mon)<br />
Like yo' money can't be found under the cane (y'know)<br />
Like yo' body can't be found under the trains<br />
Like this punk we'll shatter apart your brain (bla!)<br />
I'ma thug wit' no scars, and no braids,<br />
But I could aim, and shoot through the heart or your shades<br />
I'm too row, plus too quick on the gat (uh-huh)<br />
Hate water, but I leave you wit' a wills play-back<br />
I don't give a fuck if all y'all go to the cops,<br />
And I don't give a fuck if none of y'all gimmie my props<br />
I got shit in my name and my credit is worse<br />
What's to stop me from shootin' you first?FUCK YOU! (haha)<br />
I'm like tattoos, you forget that I'm there (uh-huh)<br />
To the gun fire perm your hair<br />
Miss you, and go strait through your moms rockin' chair,<br />
Through her back and it ain't stopin' there!<br />
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[Chorus] - 2X<br />
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Bounce my niggaz.. c'mon<br />
Sheek and S.P., rock, rock on (c'mon)<br />
Bust shots 'til your glock can't pop no more (hahaha)<br />
Let it down 'til your top can't drop no more (uh-huh)<br />
Hit you up 'til your spirit where the Eagles fly (c'mon)<br />
Talk to me, if you really come back then you'll die (c'mon)<br />
Make me believe, no shirt but still got some shit up my sleeve<br />
No asthma, makin' it hard to breathe<br />
Let's go, aiyyo Styles take this motherfuckin' mic from me, c'mon<br />
<br />
Aight.. aiyyo, P'll tell it like story, just like a narrator<br />
Ya don't mean it, we snappin' it like the Aligators<br />
Open ya eyes so you can see what the drama mean<br />
I hit ya man in the cheek wit' a barber blade,<br />
And I'm in the first floot at the (?) Parade<br />
Forty on the weights wit' a fifty on the garcarade<br />
Always got the route, never had the heart to beg<br />
You ain't seein' shit 'til a slug rip a part'a head<br />
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[Chorus] - 4X
