MR - Heat Packers lyrics

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MR - Heat Packers lyrics

(feat. Beezo, Mr. 3-2, Pup) Heat packer... [Mr. 3-2:] When I clap that cannon, n***az fall down dead k**er gorilla, for the bread I ain't scared Get ahead, whatever it take to get over Two 2-3's, knocking heads off n***az shoulders I told ya, now it's too late to plea bargain No organ, pistol up and I'm mobbing Squabbing, box in the street with no shoes Slapping fools, use a mark like a tattoo Drama ain't sh**, but a five letter word Boys get curred, and f**ed off for the birds I know you heard, we ain't scared of no jackers Down in H-Town, the home of the heat packers [Hook: x2] Heat packers, kidnappers and thugs Fried out sipping mud, and jacking for d** co*k back the hammer, and empty the whole clip n***az ain't bout sh**, so ride or get hit [Beezo:] It spun, the heat packers are moving the packs A package is falsing for real, selling illigitmate deal Far from being, some of that fake sh** that you spill All that k** em up bang-bang, dope sale that you claim I don't claim to be, nothing I'm not to be The apple don't fall far from the tree, I know my family tree you feeling me k**ers and drug dealers, thug n***az my fam to be And tell that you visit your fam, from the gutter they rose up Tried to better me growing up, raised right by my team The streets ripped me to be, a heat packing MC Push and it came, blowing on trees riding on 3's Me and that n***a 3, kicking that S.G. [Hook x2] [Pup:] Motherf**er I'm a heat packer, with jacking deleting jackers No problem with busting my pistol, you n***az got it backwards I'm a soldier, Ridgemont veteran quick to fold ya I told ya, for 2005 the game's over I don't know ya, so what I'ma box you fo' See I ain't got time to play with you b**h, I'ma pop you hoe So when you see me in the streets, don't try to flag me down Them be the same b**h n***az, that try to drag me down I ain't no rookie n***a, you better ask around I put-p-put on that mask, and come and blast your town I'm packing heat, and got four or five n***az packing it with me Artillery, nobody packing rounds under fifty You fellas wanna get with me, come prepared then n***a Cause I'm going all out, if I gotta stab me a n***a But my pistol and my choppers, usually right on my side With my finger on the trigger, and I'm ready to ride cause we some [Hook x2]