Pistols Blazin

3X Krazy

Composição de: Charles Williams / Jerold Ellis / Ramone Curtis
tom: Afinação:
[Featuring Yukmouth, Dru Down, Swoop G, Cydal] 
Ha, ha. 
Eh, eh, eh, eh. Get out my face. Check it. 
Mobb shit bitch. 
Lynch Mobb mane. 
Eh, eh. The Lu-Lun-iz 
3 Times 
me Ager Man 
Bart 
Let me turn up the heat man 
Dig it the M.O.B. baby. 
I'm so hurt!! 
Fa sheezy. 
Fa sheez. 
Verse 1 *(Bart)* 
I fold the cash then I 
hit away 
juss a thug fo the money, no love 
hit 'em up wit the blast 
put him in a bag, an wrap him.... 
up. 
Verse 2 *(T-Luni of Cydal)* 
It's all business 
so when the picture come bouncin off yo head 
don't take it personal 
money makin needs no rehearsin 
no nigga 
will come wit disrespect an leave wit they head on they shoulders. 
Verse 3 *(Bart)* 
Mobb 
killaz connected from block to block 
re-caulk the glock 
reset the dot 
heatas 
Beamers 
repeat from Turf achievers. 
Verse 4 *(T-Luni of Cydal)* 
We take action verses talk is cheap 
you gonna believe us 
time to floss wit me 
cut off the weak 
you won't decieve us 
let us mechandise an murderise 
any an all 
many will fall. 
Verse 5 *(Bart)* 
It's juss an 
O.G. call 
made from the B 
when I step up, I bet ya Mr. Sick is gonna get to creep 
I gets to blastin ass 
dip they bodies in the bag 
I hope I 
get to lastin in this game of cash. 
Verse 6 *(T-Luni of Cydal)* 
It's paraphanalia 
not parinoid 
you fuckin wit a pair of boys 
that'll pump yo body full of lead 
an watch it swell up like we got no conscience. 
Verse 7 *(Bart)* 
Cuz it ain't no spraya like the one I got 
claimin you juss a playa but the fakas I sock 
surround yo weave head 
fuckin wit the weave head 
get left wit p head 
I bet ya violent click 
talkin all that lip 
when you was wit my click an get shit. 
Verse 8 *(T-Luni of Cydal)* 
Head split an ass kicked in 
chin shattered 
an nobody could recognize you when they found ya 
an they still don't know who downed ya. 
Verse 9 *(Bart)* 
This shit is deeper than you think 
wit a straight face 
lay down an come up off them cavy case 
slow down 
better pump yo brakes 
don't know my click from a can of paint 
these niggaz won't last 
when I 
buck one in that ass 
an hit the gate 
I seen two more escape. 
Chorus *(Ager Man)* x2 
It ain't no room for no non-ass soldier niggas 
an it's amazin how the heat bring out the hoe in niggas 
when pistols blazin. 
Verse 10 *(Keek The Sneek)* 
Cashin 'em 
like fresh over fresh 
I'm in the Benz 
massagin a bitches my rivalry 
rushed out to get some ends 
build the twins 
nigga I love them bitch half Benz 
strugglin off that gin 
hoes at the bus stop wanna get in 
but they 
foot soliders 
not swangin like a Nova 
plus them niggaz ain't tight 
to make a right an pull my 600 over 
juss as I left I looked to the corner of my eye 
that it's them same niggaz that bucked at me 
but it wasn't my time to die 
ah 
pull out my thang 
hit 'em in the back 
whatever remained 
so the bitch stay out my business an let the Benzo skirt 
an swang 
yellin Mobb, clouded wit Age 
for the nigga I said 
"I didn't love yo punk ass 
an plus I'm tired of the pain" 
like Cameo this shit is strange 
a nigga doin a dude 
to get his whole neck an head rearranged 
Mobb members, make niggaz think about what they doin 
watch what you pursuin 
fuck around an get yo whole career ruined. 
*(Chorus)* x1 
Verse 11 *(Yukmouth)* 
Listen 
uh 
little boys an girls listen to me 
it is I that you see 
gettin high niggas be 
gettin by on these streets 
do or die on these streets 
hit 'em high meet defeat 
wit 'em tied across the feet 
niggaz lie beneath the creek 
many try but don't eat 
much food 
unless I run wit a fool that picks me up in a Lex 
FUCK SCHOOL 
let's jet 
live an direct 
the Yay Area, they carry a 
4-5 an a Tech 
when they bury ya they pissin on the side of you grave 
no witnesses but a buckshot from inside of the gage 
an niggas be gettin pepper sprayed up 
handcuffed an made to lay down 
circumstances 
to skanless, manless 
to slang a gang 
strapped down 
my shit be fully greased up 
hits the mutha fuckin streets up 
cuz niggas ain't takin no beat ups 
they re-up wit the heatas 
leaders of the new school 
but we don't bust a rhyme 
we bust a nine 
mutha fuckas find 
nine's under the bridge in the Pacific Tunnel 
Mobb material 
scratch off the serial number 
fuckin balistic so 
roll to the riches 
fuck hoes, bitches, an sluts 
bubblicious Yuk 
booku bucks 
my niggaz will shoot you up. 
*(Chorus)* x2 
Verse 12 *(Swoop G)* 
Now what these niggaz tryin to do? 
Get gunned down, stomped an pistol whipped fool? 
If not I sugguest you get the fuck up out the West 
when it come to gun play 
there's no contest 
I leave you wit two holes 
one in yo dome 
one in yo chest 
an Elliot Ness 
he wouldn't have made it on the West 
and yes 
I know you mutha fuckas heard about us 
cuz we was all on the news 
fo Mobb-Style murders 
I crack a fool on top of his head 
wit a strap 
told his bitch to come over here 
she sat on my lap 
man this Mobb shit 
ain't never been no joke 
you headed straight for the pen 
or you end up smoked 
that's why I keep a heater 
on my passengers seat 
an I'm Mobb Affiliated 
uh, uh 
I know you hate it 
I rather be caught 
with my heater 
then wit out my heater 
it's juss a misdemenor. 
Verse 13 *(Eclipse)* 
I'm crackin backs like a chiropractor 
come see a Cydal factor 
get off yo block when rifles splatter 
come across wit a rival chapter 
don't be afraid to be blastin 
an don't know nothin bout lastin 
an if he flashin 
we gassin him 
an leavin his ass in a wagon 
the last dragon 
we smashin 
imagine missin in action 
I hit his ass for his cabbage 
an dissapeared like Aladdin 
an trappin his ass inside a mutha fuckin cave 
niggas that came wit the pistols 
I got missles and hand grenades 
an some troopers wit bazookaz 
ready to shoot you 
do you in 
crushin boulders wit soldiers 
cook it an make it pure again 
it's yo friend the Prince Of Darkness 
whenever the dark hits 
I feel my heart get 
to beatin an you bustas be my target 
PM it's cold heart. 
*(Chorus)* x2 
Verse 14 *(Dru Down)* 
We use no parinoia 
or dedication to our paper it's so deep 
the paraphanalia to the Mobb 
love to creep 
our elevations is racin 
up to the top 
non-stop 
wit a caulked back glock 
then hop 
into some cut 
to then nigga skirt-skirt 
you notice I juss do some dirt 
I puttin in work 
I hit them were it hurt 
crack yo spine time 
instead of hittin 'em wit my nine 
I'm 
strictly wit this hit Mobb shit 
Bitch! 
Recognize 
what a mutha fucka do is steal 
right between your eyes 
the nigga was dead before he died 
I slide 
to the next scene 
to the next route 
I'm speakin on what I juss did at the head quarters 
an to my Mobb soldiers 
no one can fold us 
readin the weakness like some Black Jack 
if niggas can't handle it 
they get stomped from that Mobb attack 
an if you come back from that stompin 
lay low 
got 'em 
hard-headed niggas will get they head put on fire. 
Verse 15 *(Ager Man)* 
It's A-G-E once again 
pullin you niggas hoe cards 
strapped for them niggas that frontin like bitches 
tryin to act hard 
it ain't nothin but the mutha fuckin Mobb in me 
I went from sellin coke on the block 
to doin robberies 
to 'luffin yo ass 
stuffin yo ass 
up in a trunk punk 
caught wit a 3 Times circumstance like T-Funk 
too soon for 'em 
shoulda had a tomb for 'em 
non-ass solider niggas 
there'd be no room for 'em 
when Pistols Blazin.
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