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buddha monk and popa wu - gun ho كلمات الأغنية

i’m good from right here?
(yeah, n-gga you good)
right here, right here, right here
(u.k., u.k., n-gga, all the way n-gga)
sha dada, lil’ free, i-born, what?
billy box, cronz dada
think about it
brooklyn is gun ho
u.k., sh-t, we quick to let the gun blow
might just hit yo’ n-gga if you run slow
k!ll ‘i’m with one blow, sh-t be gun ho
sh-t be gun ho
raise the stakes like the hiss, put some sh-t in my mince-meat
brain couldn’t explain why them snakes tried to lynch me
steppin through the vetrabutes with decibels
armed in your premises, vision is suspended in suspense
read the images, shorty loops
avirex twenty-two karat dentures kickin g’s mixed with juice
that’s the sh-t god, whole team laundry dirty green
blaze the scene, puttin victims in this high beam
some were givin fiends credit, gettin double in return
let it bubble not burn, some listen didn’t learn
peep the whole scheme, forty of us say sh-t
deathbed n-gga faced it, sacrificed his own just to make it
made his way off the pavement (hit him up!)
one time, five g’s was for the job and five-one was done
don’t shatter, fifteen, blunted out so it really ain’t matter
bomb sh-t ’til the mission is accomplished, f-ck the don sh-t
pirahnas, bitin, pray with they harmless, silence
the thief in the night, some are weak, before the fight
p-ss these fiends all they pipes
who’s to blame for a mother’s love that relieves to the thug?
b-tch feelin toppled from his drugs, but give him hugs
cronz dada
seen jig’s garments, and don’t we k!ll sargeants?
leave ’em on the back of milk cartons
stay sheist, still starvin (haha!), but yo we still starvin
do meals in concrete field, we still robbin
known to fill the odds when mob men approach me
run over most crews and dice blood, toast you
keep streets flooded like a riot in watts
n-gga seen in a high park, n-gga wire get shot n-gga
wreck the cells up like mercury, ain’t n0body hurtin me
got you woven like surgery, lyrics sick like infermeries
hold you in low duece, run through crews like toble
peep the sh-t my n-ggas go through
all my n-ggas pop crist’, slang d-ck to bangin chicks
whoever hangin with get asked without sayin sh-t
my music just playin it, tracks i’m layin it
guns i’m sprayin it, loop the energy, while i’m regainin it
my n-ggas i’m maintainin with, dress codes i’m changin it
on some new sh-t, f-ck lieutenants, i’m not playin sh-t
brooklyn, fort green, i’m claimin it
oh tre’ bonds, i’m g-ngb-ngin with g.k.b. and sh-t
i’m crucial, front and i will shoot you
bulletproof suit, free don’t play no games
ason’s sprayin the things, sn-tch up chains
i say no names, sick willie’s for they cocaine
if your man front i’m shootin him, ain’t no tellin what i do to him
for real i’m true to them, bl–dy your fam’ without deucin ’em
roscoes i’m choosin ’em, i love the d.e
c-ck and i squeeze, have a n-gga kneal to his knees
bleed internally, hit you with sixteen, draw the whole team up
swiss cheese from the knees up
i’m pollyin with pradas, divine mommies that’s thick
dipped in walley’s, body and sh-t
in lobbies, don juan like john gotti and sh-t
bringed by the fed’s, my name spread like shotti’s that’s spit
in clubs partyin with this snotty chick, hotties that trick
time be sh-t, my hobby is this
giani versaccian chick just slob me in whips
you got me, you can’t copy this on floppy disk
wanna go to war? uncut raw like poppi’s bricks
no more kadafi hits or julianni cl!cks
or pick, stick karate fl!cks, gotta be rich
publically, won the lottery once poverty hits
robbery sh-t, godfather, large revolver
problem solver, shots revolve, cops and robbers
mob honor, guns and g’s, thugs that squeeze
freeze in the hummer with screams, guns under dungerees
runnin from d’s, number my tongue to cheese
by all means, cut you with ease for a couple of keys
buckle for bees, in the summer hustlin schemes
team in the jungle doublin c.r.e.a.m
what? (yeah, n-gga, yeah)
what? (yeah, n-gga, yeah)
yeah, yeah, motherf-ckers
(i-born, i-born, daddy rose)
straight all the way, n-gga, lil’ free, baby
i born baby, uh-uh, uh-uh
sha dada baby, sha dada baby
(u.k., u.k., u.k., baby)
sha dada baby (u.k.)
uh-uh, ty-jigs, lil’ free
(u.k., u.k.)
brooklyn, yo, we goin
brooklyn, sh-tted on
what? what?
f-ck this, man, take us out
(we the illest, the most realest)

- buddha monk and popa wu

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