Gangland (feat. Bronze Nazareth)

From the top, damn
This right here is for all my gangsters
Yo! This for all my thug niggas (love)
Hood-to-hood with it
Detroit, Gun Rule, yo!
To all my mo'fuckin' niggas that's just out here hungry (wine, dine)
All my wild animal thugs (salute, know what I'm sayin'), you know
Welcome to the Detroit Zoo (Monroe)

This right here's for all my gangsters
Crip walkin' (soo), whooping the pavement
Vice Lords, SMB, Seven Mile Bloods
This right here's for all my gangsters
Crip walkin' (soo), whooping the pavement
Vice Lords (yeah), GDs (uhn, yeah)

Detroit stamped, signed, sealed, delivered
Got my boys amped for real, ride for the skrilla
From the jungles of gorillas, snakes and great venom
I'll be a voice like John Lennon when I'm finished
Ain't a baller, though I love to see niggas balling
I'm a author, it all inspires my writing

Mike Tyson brawler, y'all don't want to see us
Roll with double-D divas with guns in they cleavage
That's Victoria's Secret, she don't even speak English
Throw the gang signs up, she's squeezing
Believe it, period! Like a nigga bleeding
Kick rocks, this is my block, I ain't leaving
Bobbing and weaving and watching its creeping
Dodging and scheming their fall like the seasons
Before and after rap, I'll be a product of my habitat
Armed with a helmet, shield and a battle axe

This right here's (this is all), for all my gangsters
Crip walkin' (this is all), whooping the pavement
BMF (this is all), Ecorse, Latin Counts (yeah, yeah, uhn)
This right here's (this is all), for all my gangsters
Crip walkin' (this is all), whooping the pavement
Vice Lords (yeah), GDs (uhn, yeah)

Uhn, it's Gun Rule, bob your head like, "Commence fire"
I'm just an esquire trying to get the empire
I keep vaginas damp, cramped, Teflon, admire
Don of the state, couple priors, catch fire
In the near future, shift the claw, blazing loofah
Love my gun, Karma Sutra, 64 ways to shoot you
Lil' Compton, southwest, carries a fine
Jon Barry behind the line, I'm worrisome with mine, shit

Wheat Timbs, brown beard like a dead pine
Red Dead Revolver rhymes, Your Highness servin' lead wine
Motown, no subways, the end line
Joy Road, the affliction in my enzyme
I got big plans, I'm risin' like the rent signs
Clinch lime like a playoff berth
But let a stray off first
It ricochet off the bailiff's shirt
I aim to get that green, nigga, like the raven's turf
A porterhouse, but a prayer first

For my niggas underneath layers of earth
The ashes in the surf or the beige-tinted hearse
It's the dealer and the culprit, how could it get worse?
The mic is my pulpit, the music is church
I'm perched on the porch, eatin' perch, power
The THC got the sour mocking cauliflower
The D, we want the bread and the lettuce, olive garden
Nigga (nigga)

This right here's (all), for all my gangsters
Crip walkin' (soo), whooping the pavement
BMF (this is all), Latin Counts (yeah, yeah)
This right here's (this is all), for all my gangsters
Crip walkin' (soo), whooping the pavement
Vice Lords (yeah), GDs (uhn, yeah)

This right here's for all my gangsters
Crip walkin' (soo), whooping the pavement
Vice Lords, SMB, Seven Mile Bloods
This right here's for all my gangsters
Crip walkin' (soo), whooping the pavement
Vice Lords (yeah), GDs