various artists – pistol pistol lyrics
o trice, c’mon
yeah, n-gg-z got me
i’ma get ’em, it ain’t over
you can catch me in the whip with a fifth of pimp juice
and i’m poppin’ the clip, ’bout to fix this issue
you pray that i don’t hit, i ain’t equipped to miss you
you’re gonna need an ambulance to st-tch your tissue
or either have a bag on your hip to sh-t through
you seen us on the ave anxious to get you
but my p-n-s is a mag, when i lift, it hits you
’cause i don’t go nowhere without my pistol pistol
i solemnly swear on my daughter’s tears
the n-gg- that got him in the head
will feel it before the year ends
hope you inconspicuous, my friend
’cause once the word get back, you in a world of sin
bullets will hurdle at him for tryin’ to murder what’s
been determined as the first solo african
to go platinum where the accident happened at
but maggots, i’m alive with vengeance to get back
my momma blood pressure was affected from that
my lil’ girl need her daddy on the phone at a certain time
exact now and n-gg-z act wild
but when the mac come out, y’all n-gg-z ex’ out
and i don’t wanna hear x y z
i’m x’in out your whole ent-ty for tryin’ to kill me
filthy motherf-ckers, i’ll show you what real be
when these htb’s light up your kidneys
i’m so sincere, you see in a he-rs- this year
it’s not a verse, it’s a curse from birth
and what’s on your person and over here
this is obie hearin’ clear, n-gg-z beware
we’re comin’ at you with firearms in air
and your purpose so superfluous
how could i be merciful when murkin’ me’s a mercenary’s goal?
n-gg-, i got paper, i’ll have ya -ss urgently exposed
no emergency’s bringin’ back your souls
slugs shatter your bones for pat-pattin’ me in the dome
learn this patter-in’, we catch him at home, he wrong
that’s when automatics sporadically catch him in the abdomen
another dirty motherf-cker’s gone
you can catch me in the whip with a fifth of pimp juice
and i’m poppin’ the clip, ’bout to fix this issue
you pray that i don’t hit, i ain’t equipped to miss you
you’re gonna need an ambulance to st-tch your tissue
or either have a bag on your hip to sh-t through
you seen us on the ave anxious to get you
but my p-n-s is a mag, when i lift, it hits you
’cause i don’t go nowhere without my pistol pistol
second round’s on me
robbin’, shootin’, killin’, murder
oh sh-t, run
robbin’, shootin’, killin’, murder
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