Lateef The Truthspeaker - Guns Blazing (drums Of d**h Part 1) lyrics

Published

0 316 0

Lateef The Truthspeaker - Guns Blazing (drums Of d**h Part 1) lyrics

Somewhere in Space this may all be happening right now Styles like Al Pacino Reno until the Borsellino The mad Dino with the bambino The Gambino Bigger than Jim Colosimo More Reservoir Dogs than Tarantino Scales for Venezuela Brown as Nino Making the block hotter than jalepenos G. Luciano Be wetting sh** like Pesci in Casino Fifty dollar cigar seer The Bosnia The mafia Don poet like Garcia The Drug Czar and the baby paw beater The M8 behind the bar freer The Poconos The Panama skier Down with the parmesan Ready to bomb like Vietnam with arms ‘Cause the hollow-points and phenomenon The cheddar-spreader The k**er with the gold Beretta n***a deader The sweater wetter with the hollow leader Drama setter The Paneretta getting redder kids and momma shredder The infrared glow off the armor better The Godfather The problem solver Coming through with the six-shell revolver Hot as lava Gun sk**s that's real And in the ‘ville I be the barber Gangster saga The motherf**ing face carver Give you a dose of sh** that's dope as soda The underworld family Cosa Nostra Pearl handle inside the shoulder holster G. Luciano with a clique but with nothing but n***as and Chicanos You get hit up like Castellano Italiano like crime familia n***a don't get familiar Me and my goons might have to k** you Up in New York We play bloodsports at home court And hold down forts Soon as you're caught Get your dome torched G Rap and DJ Shadow leave your bones squashed Squeeze the chrome shot Take no shorts We judge and jury in the home court Leave you the blown corpse dead on the sidewalk Surrounded by mad Peter Falks Your whole frame laid in the white chalk You got the smoking section First-cla** tickets to resurrection Forever destined to a place where n***as never resting Headed in Hell's direction Lost at the crossroads and intersection Should've wore a vest for chest protection Slugs fill you to the capacity Someone at the dance Someone with the hand velocity of Butch Ca**idy b**h n***a with the audacity to blaspheme me Got yourself caught in a motherf**ing tragedy Drums of d**h sh** is real up in this field, you should be packing steel If you want to cross the Don you kiss the ring and kneel If you want to bring the beef you do whatever you feel But get your whole family k**ed, b**h, you know how we deal