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lil gin - strapped at all times 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-gg-s in the industry
like russian [?] becoming [?] on they companies
successful salesmen putting [?] on crooked cops
i’m trapped in the ghetto steadily taking criminal mugshots
they say a n-gg- with a gun is homicidal
well they made it legal to tote it in texas, now ain’t that suicidal?
for the n-gg-s with no sense on [?] sniffin’ that f-cking [-sniff-]
high-capper n-gg-s gon’ get robbed
we pullin’ them papers, makin’ em [?] shootin’ ’em [?]

[hook: bun b]
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n-gg-s f-ck with other n-gg-s sh-t, but they don’t f-ck with mine

[verse 2: lil gin]
i’m from that north memphis area
where pimp n-gg-s packin’ the heat under the seat
dippin’ sweets, b-mpin’ doja
we tearin’ up the f-cking 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-gg-s is tryna get paid, the [?] is you playa get 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
hoe, you’re [?] ’cause the [?] got my back
hurt [?] smoke a [?] now street n-gg-s jackin’ tracks
what yo’ hood like? is it rough? is it tough?
we got girls and gold grills, and n-gg- we ain’t afraid to bust
i’m a project boy, runnin’ from the police ain’t no thing
i master all that sh-t, as a young n-gg- shootin’ at the [?]
only bad boy tryna run out with my bricks
put some money back into the ghetto while you standin’ tall
don’t forget where you came from, ’cause you can’t fall

[hook: bun b]
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n-gg-s f-ck with other n-gg-s sh-t, but they don’t f-ck with mine
17-5, i gotta bird on they -ss

[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, ’cause i’m liquor store bound
i hit a junkie with some crumb-numb, n-gg-, get a pain [?]
can’t you see that skunk got me crunk as sh-t with a face mask?
smothered by the dope i blast, loced out with my kinfolk [?]
blow a n-gg- door, hit the floor, “where the dope and tree?”
i ain’t got no cash!
look up in the closet, b-tch, i’m [?] n-gg-s i’m [?] up
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 made the [?]
them [?] shots scatter, i watch it splatter your guts
jump over the fence, and hit the cut

[hook: bun b]
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n-gg-s f-ck with other n-gg-s sh-t, but they don’t f-ck with mine
17-5, i gotta bird on they -ss
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n-gg-s f-ck with other n-gg-s sh-t, but they don’t f-ck with mine
17-5, i gotta bird on they -ss
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n-gg-s f-ck with other n-gg-s sh-t, but they don’t f-ck with mine
17-5, i gotta bird on they -ss
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n-gg-s f-ck with other n-gg-s sh-t, but they don’t f-ck with mine
17-5, i gotta bird on they -ss
pistol grip pump in my lap at all times
n-gg-s f-ck with other n-gg-s sh-t, but they don’t f-ck with mine
17-5, i gotta bird on they -ss

- lil gin lyrics

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