Pistolvania 2

T is for terrible, H is for Hell
U is for ugly, and G is for jail
'Cause a thug can't spell
T is for terrible, H is for Hell
U is for ugly, and G is for jail
T is for terrible, H is for Hell
U is for ugly, and G is for jail
I done seen this gun-play change men
Shootouts turn gangstas into strange men
The AK drum rearrange men
Kurt Russell with a bounty, I'm the Hang Man
I hang men from west Philly to west Baltimore
To west coast, to west Africa
It's an A.O.T.P. BGC massacre
They call me The Flash 'cause I throw this hot shit so fast at ya
Red beams and dead dreams is all we know here
Fifty shot clips and weed is all we grow here
I'm from Philly dawg, you don't want to go there
Even the cops get hit with the .44 here
Really dawg, it's Pistolvania part two
My gun'll do surgery on your brain and your heart too
Plenty casualties when my crew blast niggas
A Darth Vader with a beard for you Luke ass niggas
Everybody got a gun, everybody want to ride
When it's all said and done, don't nobody want to die
Talking tough in the streets, everybody wonder why
At the funeral, everybody want to cry
Cry motherfucker, cry motherfucker, cry
Die motherfucker, die motherfucker, die
It's Pistolvania part two
It's Pistolvania part two
Homicide rate, nigga, I survive fate
I'm in live shape, pussy, you provide hate
You wearing wire tape, my cap likes to jivate
They find the niggas all thrown through the fire escape
When I walk up, bodies all chalked up
On the asphalt in the dark when I spark up
I got a chemical remedy full of energy
Head shots mentally, show 'em my whole identity
A militant, my home is Pistolvania
Niggas act demonic, my brain is full of mania
I got arrangements to put you on the pavement
Check your brain waves and cause mental enslavement
You're not ready, I pop heavy, my shot steady
You want to talk about gas? Nigga, I got Getty
You're not ready to get close to an overdose
A militant coming through with Jehovah clothes
Everybody got a gun, everybody want to ride
When it's all said and done, don't nobody want to die
Talking tough in the streets, everybody wonder why
At the funeral, everybody want to cry
Cry motherfucker, cry motherfucker, cry
Die motherfucker, die motherfucker, die
It's Pistolvania part two
It's Pistolvania part two
Yeah, listen
I send 'em to God, let him sort 'em out, who gon' burn up?
Caught a couple homis, but the bodies never turned up
I don't say shit like, "On fleek" or "Turnt up"
Embalming on the wakata, all shermed up
The new Porsche is a lot faster
The blue Avatar face on the Yacht-Master
Son got splashed down to bottom, all master
Got caught slipping on white like Alabasta
It's dark and it's hot, it's about to be cold
And these young boys style is about to be old
Young boy act Joe, so he have to be told
Or have his body dump trucked up academy road
Really, fuck rap, I'm about to pull the llama out
Fuck the llama, I'mma have to pull the fucking chopper out
Air your fucking whole block including your mama out
I'm the one to call if you need to bring the drama out
Murder
Everybody got a gun, everybody want to ride
When it's all said and done, don't nobody want to die
Talking tough in the streets, everybody wonder why
At the funeral, everybody want to cry
Cry motherfucker, cry motherfucker, cry
Die motherfucker, die motherfucker, die
It's Pistolvania part two
It's Pistolvania part two



Credits
Writer(s): Unknown Writer, Craig Lanciani, Vincent Luviner, Leslie Pridgen
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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