Luyện nghe bài hát Pistol Grip

Nowadays girls and wanna lick me
Her put her tongue on me, him his gun on me
I won't let 'em get me I stay
In case I stick her and he try to stick me
So I'm packin' my magnums, in case I blast one

The time I'm leakin' out my head is when I'm sweatin'
You ain't gon' have me layin' dead in my
I hard for my rings, chains and bracelet
He left and came to take it, eroded
He bled red stains in
His split slain he lay stiff, think about it

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

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

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

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

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

Now with me I'ma target ya click
The scope, I got ain't the type you gargle and
It sit on top of the fifth small and 4-4s
leave a enemy so cold

Thirty away with one eye squinted
You look like the man on the fuckin' Enemy logo
nigga start shit
Watch the tech spray a flame a airbrush artist

I got my grip on the side of me
And ain't no bitch gon' catch me slippin' 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 from my 45 heater

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

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

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 the clip
Run up die in the streets

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