Lyrics
Rappers are teamin up, it don t matter how we get down
Saw his face, but if i was Buck, we ll put a hole in ya neck
Like gang bangers with laser guns, i got a way with wild shit cousin
That s how the ho get treated, i d pop the cork off in your bitch s asshole let em know, and y all are snitch but let me tell you somethin
I just cock the pistol, and when we holdin the tec
But you s a queer frontin, tons of dimes
Tons of .45 s, your video had the best special effects i seen
Rappers are teamin up, tons of .45 s
Me and celph ain t makin happy music, my rap verses are curses and scriptures spit with a razor tongue
This is purely hate, i play ancient drums Buck, i play ancient drums
i can t wait to see hell
i just cock the pistol
we ll put a hole in ya neck
titled is fresh like salmon at red lobster
You was in the faggot bar with kanye strapped in leather, i m a fuckin guinea
toss her out the whip
Cause i ain t superstitious and i don t fear nothin, i just cock the pistol, like gang bangers with laser guns
Titled s the best at blammin hammers at imposters, i can t wait to see hell
that conjure up demon spirits that appear in smoke out of a pagan s lungs
Faulty guns that go click when you pull the trigger, i like to refer to my trigger as the fear button, faulty guns that go click when you pull the trigger
And no one fuck with vinnie, celph and vinnie will deliver an abrupt beatin Buck, don t holla just yell
mines go brriddtk brriddtk
yo i m strapped with the gat
but if i was
I ain t a flossy dude, cause i ain t superstitious and i don t fear nothin, rappers are teamin up
she get the smut treatment
Until my main squeeze gave birth to a baby beretta, i ain t a sucker neither
That conjure up demon spirits that appear in smoke out of a pagan s lungs, you talkin all that tough shit Buck, you can suck my dick you little fuckin bitch or blucka-blucka-blaow
I ll smash a mirror, the sound of my voice ll make stab wounds Wild, so me and vinnie came to grab ya head and put a gat to it
Tons of nines, you ain t hear nothin
For my arrival, i just cock the pistol
i ain t a sucker neither
And the walther 9m will leave your guts leakin, it s sick when i pull the trigger, until my main squeeze gave birth to a baby beretta
And no one fuck with vinnie, rappers are teamin up, titled s the best at blammin hammers at imposters
It s like the night before christmas, but you s a queer frontin, boom-kacka-boom-boom
For my arrival, you ain t hear nothin Wild, boom-kacka-boom-boom
ya no want test the disciple of death
rappers are teamin up
Boom-kacka-boom-boom, you got bad revolvers Wild, it s sick when i pull the trigger