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ramirez - 100 bars & gunnin lyrics
[verse: ramirez]
b-tch i’m on a mission, my destination the grave
aim my chopper to yo’ head then i take off your toupée
mobbin’ fo’ deep inside of a bucket, the transmission slippin’
had a conversation with the devil, told me get to rippin’
it’s the grey 59, throw your six up in the air
darkness falling from above, step across and b-tch beware
i’d rather die from my feet than to live up on my knees
true soldier from the trenches, jumpin’ out the 7 seas
f-ck with me get your wig pulled back
steady swervin’ off a xanax, that i put inside the shack
this sh-t is kickin’ in and i just don’t know how to act
my remembrance is enough bout to pull a hijack
crash a plane inside of a buildin’, now watch the bodies burn
as the world turns, police service coming’ but i’m not concerned
suicide, i’ll lay my ashes inside of a gold urn
shootin’ at these busters so you know murder is what i yearn
get a call it from my uncle, tells me “nephew what you doin’?
come to m-town, we can get some money and pick up you”
ball ’til the day i fall, hundred ghost walks when i crawl
keep my back along the wall
watch another p-ssy fall
mind f-cked up, keep the toolie like i’m bobby mane
in the kitchen whippin’ up a storm and standin’ in the rain
5-9 plug till my body turns grey
till you put me in the dirt and leave my body to decay
run up, b-tch you don’t wanna
i keep my gun up, ’till the sun up
we on the come up
i push this gat into yo stomach
b-tch i’m the gunna
you think you ballin’
you no stunna ’cause imma hunna
this is a stick-up
i get down when i come around a mask over my face
buckin’ at the window, drive-by b-tches give me sp-ce
i don’t need to talk to n0body ‘cus all you suckas fake
b-tch you mad about the fact, that your music don’t make plays
sellin’ reposts yous a hoe, i need 10 to spit a flow
twenty bands up at your show, gorilla comin’ out the sko
brown paper bagged up st. ides sippin
like i said, in the beginning, i’m a k!lla on a mission
betta back the f-ck up ‘cus sh-ts about to get real
call upon the f-cking devil so him and i cut a deal
searchin fo’ another meal, could give a f-ck how you feel
b-tch you f-ckin’ with the wrong one, i’m ’bout to make you squeal
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