M16
M-16, I'm reloading my magazine
And I will murder, every bumper clot run
Keep my hand, on my gun
Oo-woah
I don't think they want the beef, 'cause these type of problems ain't finna go away
These friends I'm packing with me, remind ya don't ever fuck with Trae (don't ever fuck with Trae)
And if these bitches get up in you, ain't no need to pray
'Cause praying with this pain, will have you praying they take you away
I still post up, and let niggas know I don't bar a thing
I'm gangstafied motherfucker, talk down and watch how I make it rain (watch how I make it rain)
And it ain't nothing that can stop it, I promise you that (I promise you that)
I put that on the Truth, my brothers and Mr. Fat Pat (yeah)
Now if they really want it, these niggas gon have to get it
I'm trying to put something on your mind, just so you don't forget it
My M-16, will be the reason niggas take a loss
When I get it out, just watch how fast this bitch'll rearrange your house
The shit I got, will make the laws back up and get the SWAT
But even what they got, will give it up 'cause these bullets be hot
I'm like original roster, who wanna run with me? (Who wanna run with me)
'Cause what I'm bringing out, don't think they wanna fuck with me
M-16, I'm reloading my magazine
And I will murder, every bumper clot run
Keep my hand, on my gun
Oo-woah
Ay, I keep a heater, but I'm known for my murder 16s
Killer speaker killer beats, so I murder 16s
So they M16s, tote a M-16
I call it my bodyguard, 'cause they instincts mean
In the streets of the city (city) it ain't no love (love)
Them boys'll fuck you quick, without no glove (glove)
I'm riding, in haters road blocks (blocks)
Them jackers don't stop, they'll blaze your whole spot
So a nigga on spot, with the gauges on cock
And them Orville Redenbach Glocks, is on pop
See P.O.P. I will P-O-P
'Fore I let another mother (mother) squeeze on me
In the H to the T-X, you better pray or be X'd
They don't play you'll be next, you better raise your protection
Yes son, and just to see another day it's a blessing
So I keep a weapon, my
M-16, I'm reloading my magazine
And I will murder, every bumper clot run
Keep my hand, on my gun
Oo-woah
Yeah, is it mi Glock 40? Bump-bump-bump-bump, nope
Is it mi .45? Bump-bump-bump-bump, nope
Is it me 3-57? Bump-bump-bump-bump, nope (nope)
Mi M-16, taping off the murder scene (scene)
Inhaling potent doja, with muddy cup of codeine (codeine)
Mi people don't even play mi close, 'cause them don't know me (don't know me)
Mi no wan no company, mi kick it with mi lonely (lonely)
And will murder anyone of you snitches, run up on me (on me)
But my grandmother didn't raise a killer, she raised up a Christian
But the fact that I was already down, and people kept kicking
Made me crazy (crazy) that's why I got no love for nobody lately (lately)
And I told y'all once before, none of my weapons have a safety
Run up on me once, I'ma beat your ass down
Run up on me twice, I'ma heat your ass down
Place you in another dimension, nobody can see you now
Rest in peace, I'm the king of the streets (yeah)
M-16, I'm reloading my magazine
And I will murder, every bumper clot run
Keep my hand, on my gun
Oo-woah
M-16, I'm reloading my magazine
And I will murder, every bumper clot run
Keep my hand, on my gun
Oo-woah
And I will murder, every bumper clot run
Keep my hand, on my gun
Oo-woah
I don't think they want the beef, 'cause these type of problems ain't finna go away
These friends I'm packing with me, remind ya don't ever fuck with Trae (don't ever fuck with Trae)
And if these bitches get up in you, ain't no need to pray
'Cause praying with this pain, will have you praying they take you away
I still post up, and let niggas know I don't bar a thing
I'm gangstafied motherfucker, talk down and watch how I make it rain (watch how I make it rain)
And it ain't nothing that can stop it, I promise you that (I promise you that)
I put that on the Truth, my brothers and Mr. Fat Pat (yeah)
Now if they really want it, these niggas gon have to get it
I'm trying to put something on your mind, just so you don't forget it
My M-16, will be the reason niggas take a loss
When I get it out, just watch how fast this bitch'll rearrange your house
The shit I got, will make the laws back up and get the SWAT
But even what they got, will give it up 'cause these bullets be hot
I'm like original roster, who wanna run with me? (Who wanna run with me)
'Cause what I'm bringing out, don't think they wanna fuck with me
M-16, I'm reloading my magazine
And I will murder, every bumper clot run
Keep my hand, on my gun
Oo-woah
Ay, I keep a heater, but I'm known for my murder 16s
Killer speaker killer beats, so I murder 16s
So they M16s, tote a M-16
I call it my bodyguard, 'cause they instincts mean
In the streets of the city (city) it ain't no love (love)
Them boys'll fuck you quick, without no glove (glove)
I'm riding, in haters road blocks (blocks)
Them jackers don't stop, they'll blaze your whole spot
So a nigga on spot, with the gauges on cock
And them Orville Redenbach Glocks, is on pop
See P.O.P. I will P-O-P
'Fore I let another mother (mother) squeeze on me
In the H to the T-X, you better pray or be X'd
They don't play you'll be next, you better raise your protection
Yes son, and just to see another day it's a blessing
So I keep a weapon, my
M-16, I'm reloading my magazine
And I will murder, every bumper clot run
Keep my hand, on my gun
Oo-woah
Yeah, is it mi Glock 40? Bump-bump-bump-bump, nope
Is it mi .45? Bump-bump-bump-bump, nope
Is it me 3-57? Bump-bump-bump-bump, nope (nope)
Mi M-16, taping off the murder scene (scene)
Inhaling potent doja, with muddy cup of codeine (codeine)
Mi people don't even play mi close, 'cause them don't know me (don't know me)
Mi no wan no company, mi kick it with mi lonely (lonely)
And will murder anyone of you snitches, run up on me (on me)
But my grandmother didn't raise a killer, she raised up a Christian
But the fact that I was already down, and people kept kicking
Made me crazy (crazy) that's why I got no love for nobody lately (lately)
And I told y'all once before, none of my weapons have a safety
Run up on me once, I'ma beat your ass down
Run up on me twice, I'ma heat your ass down
Place you in another dimension, nobody can see you now
Rest in peace, I'm the king of the streets (yeah)
M-16, I'm reloading my magazine
And I will murder, every bumper clot run
Keep my hand, on my gun
Oo-woah
M-16, I'm reloading my magazine
And I will murder, every bumper clot run
Keep my hand, on my gun
Oo-woah
Credits
Writer(s): Michael Dixon
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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