C.C.F. Division - Gun Ho lyrics

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C.C.F. Division - Gun Ho lyrics

[Intro: ShaCronz, (Daddy Rose)] I'm good from right here? (Yeah, n***a you good) Right here, right here, right here (U.K., U.K., n***a, all the way n***a) Sha Dada, Lil' Free, I-Born, what? Billy Box, Cronz Dada Think about it [Chorus 2X: Daddy Rose] Brooklyn is gun ho U.K., sh**, we quick to let the gun blow Might just hit yo' n***a if you run slow k** 'im wit one blow, sh** be gun ho sh** be gun ho [I-Born] Raise the stakes like the hiss, put some sh** in my mince-meat Brain couldn't explain why them snakes tried to lynch me Steppin through the vetrabutes with decibels Armed in your premises, vision is suspended in suspense Read the images, shorty loops Avirex twenty-two karat dentures kickin G's mixed with Juice That's the sh** God, whole team laundry dirty green Blaze the scene, puttin victims in this high beam Some were givin fiends credit, gettin double in return Let it bubble not burn, some listen didn't learn Peep the whole scheme, forty of us say sh** d**hbed n***a faced it, sacrificed his own just to make it Made his way off the pavement (hit him up!) One time, five G's was for the job and five-one was done Don't shatter, fifteen, blunted out so it really ain't matter Bomb sh** 'til the mission is accomplished, f** the don sh** Pirahnas, bitin, pray with they harmless, silence The Thief in the Night, some are weak, before the fight Pa** these fiends all they pipes Who's to blame for a mother's love that relieves to the thug? b**h feelin toppled from his d**, but give him hugs [ShaCronz] Cronz dada Seen Jig's garments, and don't we k** Sargeants? Leave 'em on the back of milk cartons Stay sheist, still starvin (haha!), but yo we still starvin Do meals in concrete field, we still robbin Known to fill the odds when mob men approach me Run over most crews and dice blood, toast you Keep streets flooded like a riot in Watts n***a seen in a high park, n***a wire get shot n***a Wreck the cells up like mercury, ain't nobody hurtin me Got you woven like surgery, lyrics sick like infermeries Hold you in low duece, run through crews like Toble Peep the sh** my n***as go through [Chorus 2X] [Free Murda] All my n***as pop crist', slang dick to bangin chicks Whoever hangin wit get asked without sayin sh** My music just playin it, tracks I'm layin it Guns I'm sprayin it, loop the energy, while I'm regainin it My n***as I'm maintainin wit, dress codes I'm changin it On some new sh**, f** Lieutenants, I'm not playin sh** Brooklyn, Fort Green, I'm claimin it Oh tre' bonds, I'm g**nin wit G.K.B. and sh** I'm crucial, front and I will shoot you Bulletproof suit, Free don't play no games Ason's sprayin the things, snatch up chains I say no names, sick Willie's for they c**aine If your man front I'm shootin him, ain't no tellin what I do to him For real I'm true to them, bloody your fam' without deucin 'em Roscoes I'm choosin 'em, I love the D.E co*k and I squeeze, have a n***a kneal to his knees Bleed internally, hit you wit sixteen, draw the whole team up Swiss cheese from the knees up [Ty-Jigs] I'm pollyin wit pradas, divine mommies that's thick Dipped in Walley's, body and sh** In lobbies, Don Juan like John Gotti and sh** Bringed by the fed's, my name spread like shotti's that's spit In clubs partyin wit this snotty chick, hotties that trick Time be sh**, my hobby is this Giani Versaccian chick just slob me in whips You got me, you can't copy this on floppy disk Wanna go to war? Uncut raw like poppi's bricks No more Kadafi hits or Julianni clicks Or pick, stick karate flicks, gotta be rich Publically, won the lottery once poverty hits Robbery sh**, Godfather, large revolver Problem solver, shots revolve, cops and robbers Mob honor, guns and G's, thugs that squeeze Freeze in the Hummer with screams, guns under dungerees Runnin from D's, number my tongue to cheese By all means, cut you with ease for a couple of keys Buckle for bees, in the summer hustlin schemes Team in the jungle doublin C.R.E.A.M [Interlude: ShaCronz, (Daddy Rose)] What? (Yeah, n***a, yeah) What? (Yeah, n***a, yeah) [Chorus 2X] [Outro: ShaCronz, (I-Born)] Yeah, yeah, motherf**ers (I-Born, I-Born, Daddy Rose) Straight all the way, n***a, Lil' Free, baby I Born baby, uh-uh, uh-uh Sha Dada baby, Sha Dada baby (U.K., U.K., U.K., baby) Sha Dada baby (U.K.) Uh-uh, Ty-Jigs, Lil' Free (U.K., U.K.) Brooklyn, yo, we goin Brooklyn, sh**ted on What? What? f** this, man, take us out (We the illest, the most realest)