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rhythm green - gun powder lyrics

[verse 1: rame royal]

i reside
in oakland, california eastside
ain’t no bullsh-t
i mean to the fullest we ride
be wise if you ain’t ready for trigger action
n-gg-s may ask ya now
when i comes to blastin
the sons of fashion
it’s too much
like gettin touched for rappin
slip the clip in you f-cked
won’t even know what happened
unload, close caskets from the cappin
defaced
erased
can’t be replaced
it’s a disgrace
vet players set this pace
can’t keep up
we leave you wit what?
hit your chest
like kicks from the b-ss?
someone should of told you
i’m from the old skool
meanin the cold dude wit heat
when i hold my two
make your whole body go like jul’s
then disinigrate
slugs penitrate any thug
don’t discriminate
i mean this
go up in you like intervenous
witness’ forgettin this
ain’t seen sh-t
they fiend this
town’s finest
few dank hits
yahighness
wrap that -ss up in a blanket like blindness
dump you in the trunk punk
wit the pump, m-ss, an semi
while i toast yo -ss wit the henny.

cuz i’m the type of n-gg-
that’s quick to blast
f-ck wit me
i bust a cap in that -ss
cuz i don’t give a f-ck
i buck an keep bailin….
i hope you b-tch n-gg-s ain’t tellin!

[chorus x2: rame royal]

duce-duce’s
duce-5’s
3-80’s
3-57’s
glocks
4-4’s
4-5’s
an mac 11’s
tech’s, ap-9’s
ar-15’s
ak-47’s
uzi’s, m-16’s.
[second time:] “uzi’s, m-16’s” is replaced by “fully auto machines”

[verse 2: phats bossalini]

it was me an rame
in a drop top mustang
money from caine
wit visions of havin fame
i went to regime
m-16’s wit red beams
to serve crack fiends
tef filled the magazines
what?!
i’m on a come up
pressin my luck
hold glocks not givin a f-ck
fillin my cup to the brim
regrettin my sins
i push a benz
f-ck 10’s
plus all they friends
they love the bubble man
it’s bossi
f-ckin wit mine could be costly
multiple shots
slash yo spot then we outtie
ak’s
tossin grenades
yo blocks raid
when the gun blaze
you an yo n-gg-s done hit the pave.
what?!

[rame royal]

(ra-me!!!)
what?
(roy-al!)
gun powder! [echos x]
(n-gg- it’s gonzoe!)
when shot’s reign down from the tower.
it’s gun powder.
hit yo chest an devour.
gun powder.
n-gg-!
bring you to your final hour.
it’s gun powder. [echos x2]

[verse 3: gonzoe]

i’m 21 now
burn keys of weed down to ashes
make more money
sip henn outta champagne gl-sses
like n-gg-s
cuz they give us
a foul hand to work with
i keep takin hits from the deck until it’s perfect
my sister’s smoked out
an i’m stuck feedin her kids
work my site phat on the block
and it’s worth ends
so f-ck it
ain’t no luck in this game
it’s rame’s thinkin
i ain’t lookin in the police face wit out blinkin
can’t crack
the eye contact
i give that sh-t right back
talk to him wit this thang on my lap
maybe it’s my habitat
my surroundins
my world
bout hoochie b-tches
cutl-ss’
wit 15’s poundin
it’s gun powder.

[rame royal]

cuz i’m the type of n-gg-
that’s quick to blast
f-ck wit me
i bust a cap in that -ss
cuz i don’t give a f-ck
i buck an keep bailin….
i hope you b-tch n-gg-s ain’t tellin!

[chorus x2]

[verse 4: crown jul]

we got downtown livin
an big city dreams
got my trigger finger
an my palms itchin for green
stalkin caps an trench coats
poppin at all them poster n-gg- kinfolks
best hope is revenge close
an get to hoppin
i get to choppin d-cks off
this ain’t lorenna bobbit
they can’t stop it
i gets off
and man you been spotted
red dotted
ya head shot at
bustin 3-57’s
pushin 3-50 rocket
up an down the asphalte
catapultin bullets up in them -ss holes
full of dope
we full of saucy
get the cash flow
drunk n-gg-s be accuarate
be mackin the gats
so punk n-gg-s evacuate the area and
we raid yo block in caravans
strapped wit 4 mac’s
brought back from afghanistan
face it
wit millimeter in hand
if you ever need a friend
call the heater man.

[verse 5: yukmouth]

i got a ak
a tre-8
a tech-9
an hk
uzi and a chrome 4-5
stashed outside.

skinny n-gg-s don’t box
i sock n-gg-s in the head wit the glock
clown they -ss wit the peppermint snops
pop extacy an mushroom tops
f-ck the boon docks
an come to 6-500 blocks
wit a batch of rocks stashed in the boom box
posted up
roll the dice n-gg- broke it up
smoke it up
kryptonite like fruit topia
i twist ya cap
n-gg-s be gettin they caps twisted
caught up in traps
f-ckin wit hood rat b-tches
man i mack b-tches
slap b-tches like pretty tony
n-gg-s be phonier than cubic-zirconi
i make you m-th- f-ckas scream “i miss my homie”
(uggghhh!!)
whip out the gun and i would f-ck yo hood
now where you from n-gg-h!!??

- rhythm green lyrics

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