Testo Gun Smoke - Stunna 4 Vegas
Testo della canzone Gun Smoke (Stunna 4 Vegas), tratta dall'album Welcome To 4 Vegas
Cross that line, it's gun smoke
A nigga cross that line, it's gun smoke
Bitch, we bust poles, cut throat
We deliver beef right to yo' front door
Might get to tweakin' in this bitch
We make them people call the po-po
I'm tryna T-shirt me some shit
We turn an opp into a logo
Gun on my right hip for if shit go wrong
He cross that line, I'm bussin'
I still be on that fuck shit, every nigga with me clutchin'
Bitch, get down (Ayy, bitch, get down)
We won't do no fussin'
Dirty stick, clip hold a hundred
I'll give her dick and keep her cummin'
He say it's up, we put him under
Extension clips, I got a bundle
Won't go for shit, go ask my mama
We spin back to back like DJ Drama
Mag' on the Drac' shaped like a comma
Forgot to mention, I got commas
He want a verse, then send a wire
He can get him whacked, I can get him hired
New opp pack, I'm gettin' higher
New Glock ten, I'm tryna use it
Big F&N, clip full of blue tips
Catch him down bad, he a news clip
I get him popped for them blue strips
They tryna go live and get into it
I'm tryna slide and give it to him
I ain't tryna go live with no nigga
I'm tryna slide on a nigga
A nigga cross that line, it's gun smoke
Bitch, we bust poles, cut throat
We deliver beef right to yo' front door
Might get to tweakin' in this bitch
We make them people call the po-po
I'm tryna T-shirt me some shit
We turn an opp into a logo
Gun on my right hip for if shit go wrong
He cross that line, we slangin' iron
I keep it tucked, I'm bangin' mine
We put him up like in the sky
His dick in the dirt like dandelion
Try your luck, play with me, get bucked, I stand on every line
We let off rounds and still get off them pounds, just like exercise
I keep a rod, ain't goin' fishin', I'm worldwide, opps gotta listen
Walk down on the spot, Jehovah witness
I send a blitz, won't send a mention
Throw back a Perc', I go to itchin', G23, the clip extended
We kill the beef and clear the business, gang, bitch
A nigga cross that line, it's gun smoke
Bitch, we bust poles, cut throat
We deliver beef right to yo' front door
Might get to tweakin' in this bitch
We make them people call the po-po
I'm tryna T-shirt me some shit
We turn an opp into a logo
Gun on my right hip for if shit go wrong
Credits
Writer(s): Khalick Antonio Caldwell, Roney James Williams Jr.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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