Gun Talk

Album cover art for "Gun Talk" by Willie D & Spice 1 & Outlawz

Willie D & Spice 1 & Outlawz - Rap

Gun Talk

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Duration: 5:13

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Lyrics

Da-da-da-da-da-da Da - da - da - da - da Nineteen-mothafuckin-ninety-nine Willie D Retreat or get hit I'm loved by few, hated by many But guess what? I don't give a shit [Verse 1: Willie D] Fuck it, in the bucket, ready for the drama Finna heat this mothafucka up like Texas in the summer Trauma comin like a cold blue, got your body shakin' like jelly Leavin' you smelly with bullet wounds to the belly My adversaries want me dead, my survival's crucial I see caskets in your mothafuckin future If you're neutral, stay the hell away from me, bitch Cause this rotten nigga's ain't never gonna be shit Mom did her best, but I guess her best wasn't good enough Cause I stopped knockin' bitches out when my nuts got bigger Bought me a gun and shot my first nigga Trigger-happy laws suck my cock-suckin' balls I have the paramedics cleanin' out your fuckin drawers They put my mothafuckin homie in the slammer, black For a stray shooter and a gram of crack Damn, this track make me wanna eat it up and shit it out Pork made when I hit a cop I'm havin' dreams of bloody pictures My adversary makin wishes But I ain't sparin' them bitches I let my gun talk Let it talk, nigga Let it, let it, let it, let it I let my gun talk (2x) [Chorus: Young Noble, Willie D] What would my gun say if it could talk to you Shut your mothafuckin' mouth and put your hands to the roof I promise I won't shoot, give me all the loot Act cute, and I got a shot for all of you What would my gun say if it could talk to you Shut your mothafuckin' mouth and put your hands to the roof I promise I won't shoot, give me all the loot Act cute, and I got a shot for all of you [Verse 2: E.D.I. Mean] I'm at the end of my rope, I can't pretend I see hope Descendants of kings and queens, we can't even escape dope No need for a scape goat, we our own worst enemy Constantly fuckin ourself with no remedy Let me tell it, we ain't ready for war We ain't ready for what they got in store From all shores, Geto Boys and Outlawz, frontline soldiers In the midst of battle dumpin' on 'em one-time rollers Hold up [Verse 3: Young Noble] Niggas dip when the flame spit, aim to hit Y'all can't take shit, we came to trip Blame your bitch for suckin' on my homeboy's dick Said she got off a mill, huh, for ridin' on my click That's what you get, never write a check with your mouth That your ass can't cash, I blast your ass And I ain't gotta flash a nigga, Willie D'll pop ya Fuck around, smoke your asses, nigga [Verse 4: E.D.I. Mean] We got this mothafucka head on lock Until we see results, I don't care, we won't stop Hot shots, retarded, we ain't martyrs, we riders Holler if you hear us, man, I love it when they fear us Oh yeah, it's them niggas with them triggers that speak on it Six figure killers, whatever you own, we want it Willie D want it, and sucker, I do too Now what the fuck is you gonna do when pistols start talkin to you? [Verse 5: Young Noble] When you speak of dope, don't think of dope, think of me Y-o-u-n-g N-o to the b-l-e Eat MC's like BLT's, nigga please You a water gun soldier in blue fatigues Shoot to freeze, eternally you journey with me Losin' DT's, right on the corner, a new street You choose defeat, I choose to win, you lose again Ain't life grim? I know it was meant [Chorus: Young Noble, Willie D] What would my gun say if it could talk to you Shut your mothafuckin' mouth and put your hands to the roof I promise I won't shoot, give me all the loot Act cute, and I got a shot for all of you What would my gun say if it could talk to you Shut your mothafuckin' mouth and put your hands to the roof I promise I won't shoot, give me all the loot Act cute, and I got a shot for all of you [Verse 6: Spice 1] My own Glock pistol whipped a nigga in the head Cause he said, "I wouldn't buy the infrared" My Tec-9 jam and stutter when he get at a hoe So I filed down a pin, made him fully auto Kept talkin shit, seein' haters come out and play Tell me he homesick, wanna go back to the Bay So we can ride around the hood and get at Mrs. Glock She was spittin' back at us when you and me was on the block My two homies Smith & Wesson wanna fuck Nina Ross Said they gon' rape that bitch if she don't let 'em both toss My Uzi change his own clips for me Got my mothafuckin' mind playin tricks on me It's sick, homie Speakin' a worldwide language, gun talk, everybody listen Kissin and rubbin' my pistol like a pretty picture Goin on a mission, killin' niggas that's talkin shit, and No, we ain't missin', we aim straight and dippin' Bossallini slash killer slash real nigga Fuck Tommy Hilfiger, my Tommy kill niggas Got me smokin' on green leafs, thuggin' until I'm red-rum Ridin' on enemies, mobbin' until my death come [Chorus: Young Noble, Willie D] What would my gun say if it could talk to you Shut your mothafuckin' mouth and put your hands to the roof I promise I won't shoot, give me all the loot Act cute, and I got a shot for all of you What would my gun say if it could talk to you Shut your mothafuckin' mouth and put your hands to the roof I promise I won't shoot, give me all the loot Act cute, and I got a shot for all of you

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Credits

Writers
  • Spice 1
  • Young Noble
  • E.D.I. Mean
  • Willie D
  • Precise