Luyện nghe bài hát Pistol Grip

Nowadays girls and wanna lick me
Her put her on me, him pull his gun on me
I let 'em get me I stay strapped
In I gotta stick her and he try to stick me
So I'm packin' my magnums, in case I gotta one

The only time I'm leakin' out my head is when I'm
You gon' have me layin' dead in my Chevy
I work for my rings, chains and bracelet
He left and came to it, brains eroded
He bled red stains in
His split slain he lay stiff, think about it

Before you that move this be ya warning
It's to be squeezed like an orange
Bullets penetrate ya, like menstruation
I'ma empty out, more than in Run D.M.C.'s closet

I got my grip on the side of me
And ain't no bitch gon' me slippin' 'cause it ride wit me
I got my in my lap, I'm squeezin' on my strap
Try me bleed, I let it rip, empty the clip
Run up die in the streets

I got my grip on the side of me
And ain't no bitch gon' catch me 'cause it ride wit me
I got my heater in my lap, I'm on my strap
Try me you'll bleed, I let it rip empty the
Run up die in the streets

Jay known to rip a instrumental
You can bleed like I broke pen for dissen' a pencil
artist I paint a picture
Way I touch O's everyday for me like a game of

My say I'm a legend
Ghetto bitches be wishin' they could spend a day in my
I'm stackin' plenty dough, I stay on cloud
Like 2Pac in 'I Ain't Mad At Cha'

Now start me I'ma target ya click
The scope, I got ain't the you gargle and spit
It sit on top of the fifth small semi's and
Heat'll leave a so cold

Thirty feet with one eye squinted
You look like the man on the fuckin' Public logo
First nigga shit
Watch the tech a flame like a airbrush artist

I got my pistol on the side of me
And ain't no bitch gon' catch me 'cause it ride wit me
I got my heater in my lap I'm on my strap
Try me you'll bleed, I let it rip empty the
Run up you'll die in the

Shit, I'll die for mine you gon' take it wit ease
You better go Jack Monterey for his
You run up on me in my 745
You catch 7 shots from my 45

In my lap is the heat's kept
I ride strapped and I ain't about no seat belts
I pull shoot and blast I'm aimin' at cha head
To make sure you dead you better wear a mask

It's no I keep the Nina, it spit soul food like sneaker cleaner
I sell pies, I tell no lies
Cookies size as Tickle-Me-Elmo's eyes
You don't know no dirt, I'll put a hole the head
Of the horse of ya shirt like a nerd in a science fair
Hang around projects, buck, I stop by

I got my grip on the side of me
And no bitch gon' catch me slippin' 'cause it ride wit me
I got my heater in my lap I'm squeezin' on my
Try me bleed, I let it rip empty the clip
Run up die in the streets

I got my, pistol on the side of me
And ain't no gon catch me slippin' 'cause it ride wit me
I got my heater in my lap I'm squeezin' on my
Try me bleed, I let it rip empty the clip
Run up die in the streets