Bust Your Gun lyrics

Bust Your Gun lyrics

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Bust Your Gun lyrics

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

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