Pimp C - That's Why I Carry lyrics

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Pimp C - That's Why I Carry lyrics

[Hook] Motherf**ers wanna start sh** in every way That's why I carry my motherf**ing gun every single day [Verse 1: Bun B] My n***a, you done pushed the wrong bu*ton I ain't never ran this hot Now you the number one n***a I wanna whoop the piss out And this not a threat, bet that, I ain't gonna let that slide Gotta get that b**h right, want him dead by midnight I followed him from his crib to the crack spot I watched him go in and come back out, I got ready to pull the Mac out Sandwiched him by the feeder of 610 Unloaded the pistol, now dirt is now what his dick in sh**, I seen a slab get stripped The discs, seats, and sound gone, and candy paint burnt to a crisp These n***as gettin' hated on for the '84s that they skated on Jackers in the dark alley waited on The fool comin' out the gamblin' shack Pistol to his back, took 4 ounces of crack, and a fat doja sack That's why I pack, my n***a, that's why I pray Cause where I stay I got to carry my muthaf**in' gun every single day [Hook] [Verse 2: Pimp C] The p-l-e-x is crowding all my space 'Bout to pop this motherf**er cause he standing in my place He selling on my block, jacking from my boys They coming on our side throwing down and talking noise Now, I occupy my time hustling and getting paid He occupying his time trying to get boys for they blades Getting 'em for they Chevy 'Burbans, they jumping out of who doos Coming down swinging, jumping out of candy blues talking 'bout give it up smooth Baby boy, it's some hating going on in P.A Mostly over stinky b**hes and who sold the most yay n***as stunting, pulling pistols ending up in the grave When I pull I always pop, that's why I'm living today Girl-a** n***as causing plex between friends And when you bust on your boy don't neither one of y'all n***as win You end up k**ing somebody that you really ain't wanna k** Over a p**y-a** n***a that's showing ho-type sk**s [Hook] [Verse 3: Bun B] Coming from the small town of madness, late night its all murd'rers Player haters, scan'lous hoes, and 'Lac-driving slab hurters Acting bad after 8, you can catch us on the late Rolling dice, blowing, and sipping on the bar straight We got the red drank, orange drank, purple drank Laughing at these mark hoes that say they never heard of drank Half-gallon Big Gulp, Big Red, big cup Drink mixed up, blowing sweets, and lighting sticks up Now in my new world, slow down, I can see n***as talking sh**, trying to see if what they said got to me But ho-a** type of sk**s say a lot to me You just gon' f** around and get yourself shot, to be Or not to be, motherf**ers plot to see me crack Under pressure, so they just impress a n***a to see me react These n***as try to start me down like a scary clown Don't dare me, 'round here we f** your game up like Larry Brown And carry pounds of k**er 'round like groceries With a presence that make you not want to stand close to me Talking about we s'posed to be brothers Don't make me laugh motherf**ers You chose to be on the side opposing me Don't matter what coast you be From, Bun and C will light your world up explosively [Hook]