(feat. Hell Rell, J.R. Writer, 40 Cal)
Yea
Yea
Turn me up a little bit
Turn my music up
Yea
Yea
Uh uh uh uh uh uh
Turn me up
[Verse 1: Hell Rell]
I heard you want to get a nigga shot and you putting up 20 stacks
That's to much money niggas do it for less than that
Go to war vest and mac, shooting dice, better stack
If I lose so what, I got money, bet it back
The rats still snitching and niggas still dying
I'm still selling and the niggas still buying
Yea, the chickens I pluck em and fuck em you love em
As soon as you see em you .38 snub them and stuff them
I like nice things like a ice ring, magnium we driving is equivalent to my right bling
Fuck with the set know the situation it might bring
Break your right knee, put your arm in a nice sling
I'm a Lamborghini Gallardo, you a keya sport
If you sueing, I ain't settling, see me in court
If you want beef, nigga see me in the streets
I'm on a 7 day cruise see you in a week
Uh
Ok
Writer
Dipset
Dipset
[Verse 2: JR Writer]
Listen doggy you're a joke, corny and you're broke
Going over board I have somebody throw you off a boat
Other than that the mac puff on ordinary smoke
Jet thru, neck blue like you lost somebody close
No you can never say I lost it, I ain't done so, if a nigga ever say I lost it he on coke hoe
They can't fuck with it I'm to damn nasty
A school bus double park, you can't pass me
It's the champs, who lay low on land, and range rov, looking for the J.Lo in tramps
You know j tho, j hoes, make them a Stan, strokes from your bank roll, change up your stance
Soon as a nigga walk up in the place they get ants, cause they know I can make it rain how you can't
I make strippers come out of their raincoats and dance
Still I give you a shot like I gave you a chance
Blah
Blah
Writer
[Verse 3: 40 Cal.]
All I gotta say is niggas stop cuffin cuffin you hugging them buzzin your scuzzins
You hug them down you rub them in public
You're such a clown you lust them fuck up your budget
She run around fucking your uncles and cousin
A lovely smile, a junk and some trunk for some luggage
Because of cal we discover the suckaz among us
You in the lose lose, fucking with the new dude
My chain like blues clues, view it like youtube
I'm in a cool mood, a ru chu wow, I'll shoot you
Used to your doo-doo brown, they say I'm going coo coo
Not coo coo cal, you want peace I'll do it shockasolu style
To the east, my brothers, to the east
Nigga want peace, my brother, get the piece
Fucking with a beast, ducking from the police, I'm rapping with warrants cause I hustle in the streets
I, jump in the beef one deep, you signed to rat records you judged my the company you keep
You don't see how hard I spit cause ya'll the same lil niggas that borrow my shit
I can tell you rappers how to be hardcore kids, constipated you gonna see how hard I spit
40!
The Gun Shop Lyrics performed by The Diplomats are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that The Gun Shop Lyrics performed by The Diplomats is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD