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Pistol Grip

Nowadays girls and boys wanna lick me

Her put her tongue on me, him pull his gun on me

I won't let 'em get me I stay strapped

In case I gotta stick her and he try to stick me

So I'm packin' my magnums, in case I gotta blast one

The only time I'm leakin' out my head is when I'm sweatin'

You ain't gon' have me layin' dead in my Chevy

I work hard for my rings, chains and bracelet

He left and came to take it, brains eroded

He bled red stains in pavement

His crane split slain he lay stiff, think about it

Before you make that move this be ya warning

It's ready to be squeezed like an orange

Bullets penetrate ya, bleed like menstruation

I'ma empty out, more shells than in Run D.M.C.'s closet

I got my pistol grip on the side of me

And ain't no bitch gon' catch me slippin' 'cause it ride wit me

I got my heater in my lap, I'm squeezin' on my strap

Try me you'll bleed, I let it rip, empty the clip

Run up you'll die in the streets

I got my pistol grip on the side of me

And ain't no bitch gon' catch me slippin' 'cause it ride wit me

I got my heater in my lap, I'm squeezin' on my strap

Try me you'll bleed, I let it rip empty the clip

Run up you'll die in the streets

Shawn Jay known to rip a instrumental

You can bleed like I broke pen for dissen' with a pencil

Starvin' artist I paint a picture

Way I touch O's everyday for me like a game of Twister

My achievement say I'm a legend

Ghetto bitches be wishin' they could spend a day in my presence

I'm stackin' plenty dough, I stay on cloud nine

Like 2Pac in 'I Ain't Mad At Cha' video

Now start with me I'ma target ya click

The scope, I got ain't the type you gargle and spit

It sit on top of the fifth small semi's and 4-4s

Heat'll leave a enemy so cold

Thirty feet away with one eye squinted

You look like the man on the fuckin' Public Enemy logo

First nigga start shit

Watch the tech spray a flame like a airbrush artist

I got my pistol grip on the side of me

And ain't no bitch gon' catch me slippin' 'cause it ride wit me

I got my heater in my lap I'm squeezin' on my strap

Try me you'll bleed, I let it rip empty the clip

Run up you'll die in the streets

Shit, I'll die for mine you ain't gon' take it wit ease

You better go Jack Monterey for his cheese

You run up on me in my 745 beamer

You catch 7 shots from my 45 heater

In my lap is where the heat's kept

I ride strapped and I ain't talkin' about no seat belts

When I pull shoot and blast I'm aimin' at cha head

To make sure you dead you better wear a bulletproof mask

It's no secret I keep the Nina, it spit soul food like sneaker cleaner

I sell those pies, I tell no lies

Cookies same size as Tickle-Me-Elmo's eyes

You don't know no dirt, I'll put a hole through the head

Of the horse of ya polo shirt like a nerd in a science fair

Hang around projects, buck, when I stop by

I got my pistol grip on the side of me

And ain't no bitch gon' catch me slippin' 'cause it ride wit me

I got my heater in my lap I'm squeezin' on my strap

Try me you'll bleed, I let it rip empty the clip

Run up you'll die in the streets

I got my, pistol grip on the side of me

And ain't no bitch gon catch me slippin' 'cause it ride wit me

I got my heater in my lap I'm squeezin' on my strap

Try me you'll bleed, I let it rip empty the clip

Run up you'll die in the streets

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