Twista - Artillery lyrics

rate me

Restraint!

Artilerry motherfucker, legit balling bitch but don't get it twisted

Ain't no hoes over here

Yeah, we got guns nigga, aimed at all you hating bitches

From K-Town to the Manor, Holy City to the Wild Hundreds

The war is on, and all my killers is riding

Todd Nitty, what you got for these hoes (click...clock...blast)

I got that 9 double M glock, with the infrared beam dot

Aiming at your knot, making your heart stop

Yelling out "Fuck Tha Po" who some call it 5-0

Better look out for when they pull that kick door

Nothing but gangstas, thats all who I hang with

Slanging them thangs with, came up in the game with

The fucking hood rats, because them some broke hoes

Me get a rich bitch and stick her for her dough

The Manor in that K-Town, thats how we put it down

Letting off fifty rounds, thats how our shit sound

Artillery up the ass, scullies and ski masks

9's and bubble masks, gunning at your ass

Motherfucking street thugs, legit ballers

Money and the power, moving that flour

Taking no shorts and taking no losses

Hauling niggas asses off in coffins with that..

One, two, three, 45.'s,

Six, seven, eight, nine milli-meter

Ten, eleven, twelve gauge pump nigga

A nigga riding with stealers, hustlers, killers all my life

Legit Ballers bitch, don't even try to fuck with us gangsta's

Because we some mobstas

You come with that bullshit, then pussy I'll pop ya'

See it's that nigga Todd Nitty, that be squeezing triggers like bitches

titties

Who is it, the most left on nigga, they crept on nigga, with that teflon nigga

And it went BLOW! BLOW! body bag that bitch

Sent his ass to the morgue with the rest of them snitches

I heat 'em up like a motherfucking Newport

Left his ass with more holes than a golf course

What you thought boy, I'm from that 9th Ward

Where them stories are true about them Manor boys

How we leaving 'em, bleedin' and crawling on the ground

Like he's a dead nigga now

I got that love for my nigga Twist, for aid and assistance

He told me holsters, caught him up in some bullshit

Don't even trips though, I'm heading in your route

Soon as I roll up, we puttin' they lights out

Poppin' a clip in, with one in the chamber

Finna' ride on a stranger, put the hoes life in danger

Started letting off hollows, straight through they car door

I'm a G from Chicago, pull the game weightless where I go

Bustin' pistols with laser injects, putting holes in they Avarex

Going straight through your tailored vests, now it's you or your neighbor next

Now we got your boy tied up, to the hideout we ride up

They gonna show us the stash-pot, with the little handles side up

Took the money and lello, and thats hwo the day goes

Get the bankroll, gotta gank hoes, and I got the 44.

Time to leave finna' go

Hit 'em with that...