Tony Dawsey - B.B. Gun lyrics

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Tony Dawsey - B.B. Gun lyrics

[Intro] Yeah, Young Gunnaz, State, State, State Prop Chain Gang Yeah, Chad West on the track Sigel, Neef Buck, Peedi Crack, O and Sparks, Freeweezy Yea State Prop Boys back in town Backblock boys, pop boys, back you down [Verse 1] I ask is it me, or is it really them Yea I'm young, but y'all ain't never gonna big Willy hum North Philly, hum keep a big milli hum Them ain't never been soft, naw dog Y'all really them n***as that be mouthing off Never really got in sh** Actin' like you shot the sh** But hesitate to pop it off When it's on, y'all be gone C grip the pistol, drawn Hittin' till them n***as gone Word till my n***as gone This ain't just a song, this is real sh** we live n***as will get ya kids, hurry n***as switch your homes Don't forget ya pistol, home, what the f** you buy it for To catch a f**ing body or to show up for them b**hes drawling Actin' all big and buff n***as ain't really tough Humble, but he might just be the first to call you n***as bluff Have you n***as sh**tin' puss Bleedin' through the a** C'll seize a n***a fast Hit you b**hes up [Hook: Peedi Crakk and Young Chris] PC: We want, we want the kid that shot that B.B. Gun YC: Oh yea n***as wanna get on I got some n***as in my click YC: That'll make your motherf**in jaws tight PC: We want, we want the kid that shot that B.B. Gun YC: Oh what n***as want to get on thats right I got some n***as in click YC: That'll hit yall motherf**as all night [Verse 2: Neef] Whoo whoop Bucky Yo, bang bang here we go Naw this ain't radio Load up ya gun music Don't pull it if you ain't gonna use it Don't tempt me n***a, I'm gonna shoot it Trust n***a, you gonna come up missing about mine Thirty shot MP5, spit out nines All hollows in ya gut So you holla when it cuts Let off a dime, then I calm 20 shots'll follow up You'll be sparking like a dutch Keep the sh** up on a hush Out on bail, fresh outta jail Two cases, I got to fight n***a They sent me down try to right n***as They want me up north, stressing with them White n***as Getting husky, f** it let twelve judge me Got to keep it on me daily If you got some beef you smell me Listen what you n***as tell me, come out naked So I can be in the spittle, doc pumping I'm wetted But I'mma be both these f**as give me a second [Hook] [Verse 3: Beanie Sigel] Sig. want Sig. want you b**h n***as still pumping you guns Like pump pellets won't puncture your lungs Get your toes tagged who wanna slow drag Dance with the devil who wanna play freeze tag with the metal And you it's like a virus my whole crew sick I'm the truth in the booth with my all blue kicks But tell me why you mad dude like Big Old skits mitts Yea they call me that throwback kid Cause that colt four fifth put big holes and sh** And you know I keep my ruger near My back pocket keep the two shot there Line up who wanna see if 2Pac dead You'll knocked out ya tube socks yea Get your wing tell me thing 2Pac said Until the STOP you n***as not PAC You not MY State Prop mothef**a and [Hook] [Verse 4: Oschino] Oschino, n***a, SP We want we want That boy in the Porsche with the top in the trunk Oschino long like joker clip all hanging out Money over b**hes what this SP gang about Bought it like brotha man gas like son of Sam One through your face leave your stretched like a rubber band You wouldn't understand you don't want it fam The MC with the hammer have yall n***as do the running man Born in the ghetto straight form the projects Game like LeBron James but no Nike contract Pitbull red nose six hundred all gold marshland all froze Low top red holes red shoe strings no socks on Mr. Matinee be moving that popcorn Yall n***as should stop drawing your oil paintings stink While we in the kitchen cookin oils till they stink [Hook] [Outro: Peedi Crakk &Young Chris] YC: Chitty bang bang all I see in the ghetto is thangs bang YC: b**hes getting drunk and wetted and settle for gang bang YC: b**h n***as live for what they copy and never YC: Is it just me or do you agree things change YC: Yea...Young Gunnas...Chris and Neef YC: It's our summer, O and Sparks YC: Peedi Crakk, Freeweezy, B. Sig YC: Holla at ya boys... Yea we doing big things n***a YC: State Prop. Clothing, cartoons, movies, yall n***as know YC: f** yall wanna do YC: Young Gunnas n***a...Chris and Neef YC: Get it right n***a PC: We want, we want the kid that shot that B.B. Gun