调：Bb minor•
Verse 1
with this Russian agent,
or spray my name on the door,
you fuckin' hooker.
Fuck some jury,
I'll rock 50 chain for the haters,
most of these rappers
get a royal disgrace to Jacob.
You know Buck buyin' more
guns than the army,
and keep one on me,
in these niggas try and rob me.
I'm sorry, I'm not fit for
corporate America,
but your honor, I still got a tote of Beretta.
I know a lot of niggas,
the killers came to get em
Blocking feet got knocked off
doing what I gotta do
You know who shot at who
When niggas tried to creep on us
Thought we was only talking
and didn't have no heat on us
Watch these hoes, man,
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If she don't put one in your head,
another nigga will
When I shoot, you shoot
What? Just like that
When I shoot, you shoot
What? Just like that
bring them straps
When I shoot, you shoot
What? Just like that
yeah, just like that
When I shoot, you shoot, yeah, just like that
G -U -N, you know where we at
The Desert Eagles,
they stashed in the Pyrrhic Regal
A 12 -gauge in the back,
right beside the speakers
And I got beef,
Christian Dior seats, 23s,
leather and wool
Ain't seen the block in a minute,
they know that I been tourin'
A ghetto nigga who still hang
hollin' gangsta
when he ain't one
grab a strap my little brother like me
pulled him over.
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when you pay to win half of these niggas.
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What would you do if I told you it was a hit on you strap
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up or get wrapped up?
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Yeah, just like that,
when I shoot, you shoot.
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Yeah, just like that, G -U -N.
You know where we at.
Damn!
Damn!
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