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gimisum family - pistol grip pump lyrics

[verse 1: lil gin]
i’m a full_time gangster, pimpin’ is my career
i’m in the midnight studying, gamblin’, smokin’ pure
you know the wise guy
controllin’ crooked dissection along my own designated piece of curb, i’m packin’ my chrome steel
but i’m looking up to real n_ggas in this industry
like russian jews becoming giants ownin’ companies
successful salesmen, putting hits on crooked cops
i’m trapped in the ghetto, steadily takin’ criminal mugshots
they say a n_gga with a gun is homicidal
well, they made it legal to tote it in tеxas, now ain’t that suicidal?
for the n_ggas with no sense on thomas and woodlawn boulеvard sniffin’ that f_cking [_sniff_]
high_capper n_ggas gon’ get robbed
we pullin’ them papers, makin’ em capers, lil gin shootin’ ’em double nina rosses, black casamigos, victory flawless, gimisum family bosses about

[hook:]
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n_ggas f_ck with other n_ggas sh_t, but they don’t f_ck with mine
[verse 2: lil gin]
i’m from that north memphis area
where pimp n_ggas packin’ the, heat under the seat
dippin’ sweets, bumpin’ doja
we tearin’ up the f_ckin’ club, rollin’ so clean on them fours
thick as h_ll on beale street, where you can f_ck on the first night, hoes
everywhere n_ggas is tryna get paid
the game is: you play or played
k!llers in my town, we layin’ em down with a rusty twelve gauge
i got much love, for the h_double_o_d i grew in
i will win, many stangs on any trick b_tch tryna cross my clan
throw yo s_e_t ‘cuz the nashville cr’izz’ips got my back
hurtsvillage, woodlawn, smokey city, watkins
9th street n_ggas jackin’ tracks
what yo’ hood like? is it rough? is it tough?
we got girls and gold grills, and n_gga we ain’t afraid to bust
i’m project born, runnin’ from the police ain’t no thang
i mastered all that sh_t, as a young n_gga shootin’ at the junkie;
knocks on the back porch tryna run out with my bricks
put some money back into the ghetto, while you standin’ tall
don’t forget where you came from, ‘cuz you can’t fall

[hook:]
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n_ggas f_ck with other n_ggas sh_t, but they don’t f_ck with mine
17_5, i gotta bird on they ass
[verse 3: lil gin]
when i be hangin’ on the curb, with my gauge in a garbage can
my hand on my d_ck, for the freaky b_tches lovin’ playa
sh_t, you can call me gin, ‘cuz i’m liquor store bound
i hit a junkie with some crumb_numb, n_gga, get a pint of crown
can’t you see, that skunk got me crunk, is the sh_t with a face mask?
smothered by the dope i blast, loced out with my kinfolk crest
through a n_gga door, hit the floor, “where the dope, at trick?”
i ain’t got no cash!
look up in the closet, b_tch!
i’m holdin, while n_ggas i’m foldin’
up on them hundreds of dollars, i’m makin’ them holler
them b_tches swallow, the gauge, if i’m not paid
that means, i made no money, no it ain’t funny
that means, i blaze the barrel
them buckshots scatter, i watch it splatter your guts
jump over the fence, and hit the cut

[hook:]
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n_ggas f_ck with other n_ggas sh_t, but they don’t f_ck with mine
17_5, i gotta bird on they ass
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n_ggas f_ck with other n_ggas sh_t, but they don’t f_ck with mine
17_5, i gotta bird on they ass
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n_ggas f_ck with other n_ggas sh_t, but they don’t f_ck with mine
17_5, i gotta bird on they ass
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n_ggas f_ck with other n_ggas sh_t, but they don’t f_ck with mine
17_5, i gotta bird on they ass
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n_ggas f_ck with other n_ggas sh_t, but they don’t f_ck with mine
17_5, i gotta bird on they ass

- gimisum family lyrics

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