D-12 - Pistol Pistol lyrics

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D-12 - Pistol Pistol lyrics

Yeah, welcome to Amityville (Detroit, n***a!) The reason why rappers gotta pack pistols (Why is that?) Slick criminal wit, the sh** I spit chews Like a bullet came back that just missed and hit you I say the type of sh** parents slit their wrists to Need an anthem to amp you, then this the sh** to Too many enemies on my list to sift through Nobody got my back in this b**h but this do Sorry officer I don't care how pissed it get you But I don't go nowhere without my pistol pistol n***a, we violently active, so f** with us See I'm backwards, I slap n***as and punch b**hes Just for asking, they musta been wanting to meet the Lord When my parents talked to me, they got mean mugged and ignored They were snooping through my closet, seen d** on the floor Shells from the 44 scattered over they porch Busting pistols in your windows with intentions to destroy you Tryna break your neck to conversate? b**h, I'll do it for you Catch me laughing at your funeral when they lower you You and your ho, you gots to go, b**hes died slow and horrible There's no tomorrow for any n***a we'll shower you We young strapped and powerful and I ain't gotta lie to you Stepped in the door, waving the 44 Blazing at po-po, escaping and lay low They call my tongue ya-yo, but I spit fire I lit five inside a f**ing dick-rider The clip slider, love to blast a Mag You a f*g, you love being a** to a** Grab a gun by the nose with the bu*t to gat-spank ya Never say that I'm a gangsta (Now that's gangsta) Y'all n***as sound like Jigga but act like Pac Yo my trigger got the flu and this gat might cough It ain't nothing to tell, empty shells for the witness I'm the hot n***a that's gon' put hell outta business It won't be the same since we touching the game Make the hardest n***a in your crew, tuck in his chain Y'all think this sh**'s a game and I'm bluffing for fame? I'll squeeze off this tec until nothing remains Slick criminal wit, the sh** I spit chews Like a bullet came back that just missed and hit you I say the type of sh** parents slit their wrists to Need an anthem to amp you, then this the sh** to Too many enemies on my list to sift through Nobody got my back in this b**h but this do Sorry officer I don't care how pissed it get you But I don't go nowhere without my pistol pistol The only time that I'm at peace is when I'm close to one Cause I don't know what's waiting for me when my vocals are done Tote the gun, it's my way of life and it works These cowardly n***as'll put your f**ing life in the dirt Cause it was wrong how they left my dog, he was priceless Alone in the streets, bleeding, staring, laying lifeless That's why I'm heated, you never know who starts creeping Waking you up with AK's while you lie sleeping I'd rather pack the heat and not need it Rather than need one and not have it, I married this Glock-matic You know the sound when I'm spinning round Spitting these rounds from four pounds While the whole crowd screaming as loud From they mouths as they possibly allow? Nothing is parallel to making you carousel Aerial somersault like ferris wheels to a pair of shells Denaun carry the nine where I go Bullets whistle and hit you while I'm shooting at 5-0 Some semi-automatic for static's the motto Spitting like *Columbine kids* from Colorado Slick criminal wit, the sh** I spit chews Like a bullet came back that just missed and hit you I say the type of sh** parents slit their wrists to Need an anthem to amp you, then this the sh** to Too many enemies on my list to sift through Nobody got my back in this b**h but this do Sorry officer I don't care how pissed it get you But I don't go nowhere without my pistol pistol This nine'll turn a softy to a hard rock It'll make Jehovah's Witnesses, think before they knock (Sorry, sorry!) It'll make your grandmother come outta her purse It'll make Limp Bizkit, get rid of Fred Durst It'll make Holyfield start fighting It'll make Mase say f** church and go back to writing It'll make Shyne say he sound like Biggie Smalls It'll make R. Kelly, give respect to Aaron Hall It'll make Christopher Reeves start walking It'll make a dog with no voice, suddenly start barking It'll make a nun turn to a filthy s*ut It'll make the hardest pitbull, turn to a f**ing mutt It'll make a m**m dye his hair blonde It'll make a redneck start to read the Holy Qu'ran (Need Jesus!) It'll make Ike stop beating Tina It'll make Slim Shady fall back in love with Christina Slick criminal wit, the sh** I spit chews Like a bullet came back that just missed and hit you I say the type of sh** parents slit their wrists to Need an anthem to amp you, then this the sh** to Too many enemies on my list to sift through Nobody got my back in this b**h but this do Sorry officer I don't care how pissed it get you But I don't go nowhere without my pistol pistol