Gunz N Smoke

Come, let me show you the ropes
Chucks come with the LOCs
Drums come with the dope
Guns come with the smoke, pow

I just want the paper
I just want the paper
Gun smoke, gun smoke

They say he a big stepper, I'm just sayin' I am not the type to get stepped on
I ain't got a big weapon, Glock 17 with the switch, but the clip long
I ain't finna play wit' you, boy, you fuck around, I'ma have to catch a fade wit' you
Get the blick in broad day wit' you
Have the lil' homies run down while bae wit' you (gun smoke, gun smoke)

Little man, dope party, got him out the night, but the nigga got four bodies
Who want smoke? Nobody, goin' once, goin' twice, don't want to smoke nobody
Tell me what you know 'bout it, strapped right now, nigga, how you want go 'bout it?
I'm not the one you lean on, the type you wanna try apply pressure to and scheme on

Pussy nigga, dream on, run, nigga, run 'til I have to click the beam on
Red dot ya, I got ya, B-I-G time (woo), who shot ya?
I dropped ya, who popped ya? Shit lit, soon as I spot ya, ooh-wee
Why would you be fuckin' with me? (Gun smoke, gun smoke, pow)

Let's take a second here for this moment of violence
You smell it in the air, product of my environment
I come from freestylin' over gunshots and sirens
Nothin' more gangsta than my voice over these violins

Get down, lay down, it's the wolf of the Dogg Pound, yeah
Playground, shakedown, Autobahn, no brakes now
Skinny nigga back pushin' weight now, new Death Row on the plate now
More details, please do tell, what's that smell, nigga? (Gun smoke, gun smoke)

Shit, you would too, if you knew what a young nigga had to do
Rendezvous with a Pac or two, rock shit up like Mötley Crüe
In this fight, you gotta stick and move, all my life, I had to show and prove
Still a nigga with a attitude, if you ain't gangsta, this is not for you

Yeah, bullet holes in the palm trees (palm trees), dirty money in the laundry (laundry)
Ten toes in the concrete (concrete), niggas know where to find me (find)
I got a long reach, this Long Beach, but we don't speak
And you saw what happened to the last nigga that tried to fuck with my proceeds (gun smoke)

I remember when I was 13
Searchin' for how to get my revenge on the world that hurt me
Thirsty for commas, them double entendres turned me to an entrepreneur and a monster
Constantly caught in some kinda controversy (gun smoke, gun smoke)

That was my mantra, to taunt ya was kinda condescendin'
But why should I be kind to the kinda people that weren't kind to me
Comin' up? So like that syrup, they canceled
I'ma say, "Fuck you and your momma", then blame my rap persona (gun smoke, gun smoke)

That's the excuse that I used to explain my grammar
Allowin' me to just do what I do and not face the ramifications
So I could air my frustrations
But I'll be damned if the same reporter's gonna shove another tape recorder
And camera in my face while I am at the Burger King
Just to grab my lil' baby daughter a hamburger like Shady oughta be amicable
Guess that's the price that you pay for all the glamour, the fame and stardom
Like when you're treated just like an animal (gun smoke, gun smoke)

You'll not act like one when you came from bottom
But they gonna make me wanna pull a llama, and make like I'm a mechanical bull (yeah)
Fuck around and buck these hos, ain't talkin' no luxury clothes
Two nines I tuck, see those? Like Rock & Roll Hall of Famers, try and duck deez, yo

(Ay, what the fuck you want?) Didn't I just see you yesterday?
Fuck, fuck it, bitch

Now I'm much older, and I may be calmer
Run up on me, and I might be a little less likely to go crazy on ya, and let the (gun smoke)
I just want the paper
I just want the paper
Gun smoke, gun smoke



Credits
Writer(s): Sean Combs, Christopher Wallace, Osten Harvey, Al Green, Herb Magidson, Marshall Mathers, Curtis Jackson, Allie Wrubel, Nashiem Sa-allah Myrick, Chauncey Sherod, Tia Myrie, Varick Smith, Andrew Young, Brandon Perry, Dewayne Julius Rogers Sr.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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