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slim the mobster - gun play lyrics

[intro: mortal kombat sample]
fatality

[hook]
n-ggas don’t want no gun play
cause i stay with the wretched
you f-ck around and i clap it, i f-ck around, let you have it
n-ggas don’t want no gun play
yeah the twelve gauge shotty blast
f-ck around i leave ya hood full of body bags
n-ggas don’t want no gun play
when the sh-lls come out the cartridge
turn ’em all to targets
n-ggas don’t want no gun play
yeah f-ck it, lets get it started
n-ggas don’t want no, n-ggas don’t want no

(whoooo kiiiiid!)

[verse 1]

you know my gun on me, c-cked, locked, and loaded
and if a n-gga want it, i will pot shot you homie
threw away my forty, had to many bodies on it
shotty wit buckshots spray your crew tryin to act hard
get a n-gga kidnapped, buried in my backyard
guns in a dufflebag, money out the bank drawyer
b-tches in my bubble bath, need i say more?
capice? i ain’t for gameplay
f-cking with these boys
these toys squeeze off
fall back or ease off
skully come down mean the ski mask on
when the fullest come out, it mean the beef back on
my lil n-ggas a d-mn eye witness, when its on, its on
yeah we ain’t giving no p-sses
the motto is if you flash your blasted
if sh-t get drastic, i’m burying you b-st-rds
you know it’s a rap when they throw the dirt on your casket n-gga

[hook]

[verse 2]
if a n-gga got a problem (we gon come for ’em)
every n-gga you see with me (got a gun on ’em)
and if you ain’t got one (you better run for it)
cause if not then ya dumb -ss will be done for
yeah its that go hard k!ller sh-t
banana clip gorilla sh-t
with more bars than forty yards, harder than cement
gun charge felon at large
fresh out the precinct
got a grudge with the judge so f-ck what he think
get money the bank truck and if a n-gga move
i let the oozie eat ’em up
i let hundred round drum on the tool beat ’em up
pushing the line, no easing up
squeezing a nine, no freezing up
if i hit ’em up the coroner gone have to pick them up
gang full of goons, you got to make haste stick ’em up
tell ’em wave a white flag, f-ck it we ain’t giving up
my forty-four a nice mag
n-gga now what?

[hook]

- slim the mobster lyrics

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