Cynic - Gun in Your Mouth lyrics

[Intro: Slaine] For the Charlestown bank robbers, this one's for you. C'mon [Hook: Ill Bill] I'mma rob a bank then I'mma bounce down south With a smile on my face and my gun in your mouth Stick up the dope man, y'all know what the f** I'm about With a smile on my face and my gun in your mouth Run your whole sh**, stash box under the couch With a smile on my face and my gun in your mouth Run up in your momma's house and air everyone out With a smile on my face and my gun in your mouth [Verse 1: Slaine] Let's smoke a bundle of embalming fluid Stick an armored car up, I'mma climb into it All I need is an eight-ball and nine to do it I'll put the f**ing driver in the trauma unit or I know some wannabes sloppy with ki's With coke and cash in the crib, probably trees We'll get em drunk, pa**ed out and copy his keys Open his door, rope up his who*e and then breeze I know the time for a robbery Is very long but it really doesn't bother me I need to get rich, b**h cause I'm drug sick I got a mask, gloves, gun, and a thug clique f** a pig cop f*ggot or a mug flick We get away clean, we'll never be seen And this is the American dream So we fight for it, k** for it, whatever it means [Hook] [Verse 2: Everlast] It's the ironman with the nine in his hand Got my mind on my plan cause I grind for the fam Kick in the door waving the four-four Run the kush and the cash, get your a** on the floor Ties his hands around his back with extension cords He was slipping backstage at the Source Awards I call DMS, you call EMS, FDNY, NYPD We get high committing strong-armed robberies Don't matter if it's crack, h**n, or trees When the gun's in your face, you gonna open the safe Unless you really wanna know how a bullet'll taste [Hook] [Verse 3: Ill Bill] I pull hammers like double aces My Desert Eagle's in your f**ing faces It's Billy Crystal, the f**ing greatest A really cool guy, run up on you shooting nines A f**ing idiot, I ain't afraid to do time Addicted to money, I ain't afraid to do crime Addicted to p**y, X-rated with two dimes I fall asleep at night clutching the biscuit Hiding the kilo of c**aine in a bucket of chicken Listen, we big earners with big burners, a bunch of murderers f** a heater, I'll beat you to d**h with furniture Throw chairs and tables, kitchen sinks, listen b**h We the sh**, motherf**er this is it We the real thing, we bring Scorsese to reality I turn horrifying behaviour into salaries I jump out a helicopter and pop ya Run up on you while you're in Burger King eating a Whopper [Hook]