Testo B.B. Gun - State Property
Testo della canzone B.B. Gun (State Property), tratta dall'album State Property Presents the Chain Gang, Vol. 2
Yeah, Young Gunnaz
State, State, State Prop Chain Gang
Yeah, Chad West on the track
Sigel, uh, Neef Buck, Peedi Crakk, O and Sparks
Free Weezy
Geah, State Prop boys back in town
Block boys, pop boys, back it down
I ask is it me, or is it really them
Yeah young, chime gon' never big willie 'em
North Philly 'em, keep a big milli' 'em
Never been soft, nah dog, y'all really them
Niggas that be mouthin' off, never really got at shit
Actin' like you shot at shit, but hesitate to pop it off
When it's on y'all be gone, Sig' grip the pistol drum
Hittin' 'til them niggas gone, word 'til my niggas gone
This ain't just a song, this is real shit we live
Niggas will get your kids, hurrin' niggas with your home
Don't forget your pistol holmes, what the fuck you buy it for?
To catch a fuckin body or to show off for them bitches drawn?
Actin' all big and buff, niggas ain't really tough
Humble but he might just be the first to call you niggas bluff
Have you niggas shittin' pus, bleedin' through the ass
He decease a nigga fast, hit you bitches up
We want, we want
To kill, shot that BB gun
Yup, niggas wanna get on, let's fight
I got some niggas in my clutch that'll
Make them muthafuckin jaws tight
We want, we want
To kill, shot that BB gun
Yup, niggas wanna get on, let's fight
I got some niggas in my clutch that'll have you muthafuckas all night
Yo, bang bang, here we go, nah this ain't ready yo
Load up your gun music, don't pull it if you ain't gon' use it
Don't tempt me nigga, I'm gon' shoot it
Trust nigga, go and come up missin' about mine
Thirty shot MP5 spit out nines
Or hollows in your, so you hollow in it
Let off a dime then I calm, twenty shots'll follow up
Yeah we sparkin' like a Dutch, keep this shit up on the hush
Out on bail, fresh out of jail, two cases I got to fight nigga
They sit me down, try to write niggas
They want me up north stressin' with them white niggas
Gettin' husky, fuck it let twelve judge me
Got to keep it on me daily, if you got some beef you smell me
Listen what you niggas tell me, come out naked
So I can be in the'spital, Doc pumpin', I'm wetted
But I'ma beat both of these fuckers, gimme a second, yup
We want, we want
To kill, shot that BB gun
Yup, niggas wanna get on, let's fight
I got some niggas in my clutch that'll
Make them muthafuckin jaws tight
We want, we want
To kill, shot that BB gun
Yup, niggas wanna get on, let's fight
I got some niggas in my clutch that'll have you muthafuckas all night
We want, Sig' want
You bitch niggas still bumpin' your gums
Like pump pellets, won't puncture your lungs
Get your toes tagged, who want a slow drag?
Dance with the Devil, who wanna play?
Freeze tag with the metal, and you it
It's like a virus, my whole crew sick
I'm the truth in the booth with my old blue kicks
But tell me why you mad dude, like big old skits
Yeah they call me that throwback kid
Because that Colt four-fifth give big holes in shit
And you know I keep my Ruger near
My back pocket keep the two shot there
Line up, who wanna see if 2Pac there?
Get knocked out your tube socks, yeah
Get your wings, tell me things 2Pac said
Until then stop, you niggas not 'Pac
You not M.O.T., State Prop muthafucka and
We want, we want
To kill, shot that BB gun
Yup, niggas wanna get on, let's fight
I got some niggas in my clutch that'll
Make them muthafuckin jaws tight
We want, we want
To kill, shot that BB gun
Yup, niggas wanna get on, let's fight
I got some niggas in my clutch that'll have you muthafuckas all night
We want, we want
That boy in the Porsche with the top in the trunk
Oschie, gun long like Joker, clip all hangin' out
Money over bitches what this S-P gang about
Bout it like Dettah Man, gats like Son of Sam
One through your face'll leave you stretched like a rubber band
You wouldn't understand, you don't want it fam
The MC with the hammer have y'all niggas do the runnin' man
Born in the ghetto, straight from the projects
Game like LeBron James with no Nike contract
Pitbull, red nose, 600 all gold
Watch band all froze, off top red hoes
With the red shoestrings, no socks on
Mr. Matinee be movin' that popcorn
Y'all niggas should stop drawin', y'all oil paintings stink
While we in the kitchen cookin' oils, today stank
We want, we want
To kill, shot that BB gun
Yup, niggas wanna get on, let's fight
I got some niggas in my clutch that'll
Make them muthafuckin jaws tight
We want, we want
To kill, shot that BB gun
Yup, niggas wanna get on, let's fight
I got some niggas in my clutch that'll have you muthafuckas all night
Chitty bang bang, all I see in the ghetto is thangs bang
Bitches gettin' drunk and wetter then settle for gangbangs
These niggas livin' where they copy and never
Is it just me or do you agree that things change?
Geah, uh, Young Gunnaz
Chris Signif, Sy Summer, O and Sparks
Peedi Crakk, Free Weezy, B. Sigel
Holla at your boy, geah, we doin' big things nigga
State Prop clothing, cartoons, movies
Y'all niggas know, uh, geah
The fuck y'all wanna do? Uh
Young Gunnaz nigga, Chris Signif
Get it right, pussy
We want, we want
To kill, shot that BB gun
Credits
Writer(s): Pedro Luis Zayas, Christopher Ries, Dwight Grant, Hanif Muhammad, Chad Hamilton, Ryan Presson, Umar Saeed Alwan
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