Luyện nghe bài hát Pistol Pistol

Yeah, to Amityville (Detroit, nigga!)
The reason why gotta pack pistols (Why is that?)

Slick criminal wit, the shit I spit
Like a bullet came back that just and hit you
I say the type of shit parents their wrists to
an anthem to amp you, then this the shit to
Too many enemies on my list to through
Nobody got my back in this but this do
Sorry officer I don't how pissed it get you
But I don't go nowhere without my pistol

Nigga, we violently active, so with us
See I'm backwards, I slap and punch bitches
Just for asking, they musta wanting to meet the Lord
When my talked to me, they got mean mugged and ignored
They snooping through my closet, seen drugs on the floor
from the 44 scattered over they porch
Busting pistols in your windows intentions to destroy you
Tryna break neck to conversate? Bitch, I'll do it for you
Catch me laughing at funeral when they lower you
You and your ho, you gots to go, died slow and horrible
There's no tomorrow for any we'll shower you
We strapped and powerful and I ain't gotta lie to you

Stepped in the door, the 44
Blazing at po-po, and lay low
They my tongue ya-yo, but I spit fire
I lit five inside a dick-rider
The slider, love to blast a Mag
You a fag, you love ass to ass
Grab a gun by the with the butt to gat-spank ya
Never say that I'm a (Now that's gangsta)
Y'all niggas sound Jigga but act like Pac
Yo my trigger got the flu and gat might cough
It ain't nothing to tell, shells for the witness
I'm the hot nigga gon' put hell outta business
It be the same since we touching the game
the hardest nigga in your crew, tuck in his chain
Y'all think shit's a game and I'm bluffing for fame?
I'll squeeze off this tec until remains

The only time that I'm at peace is I'm close to one
Cause I don't know what's waiting for me my vocals are done
the gun, it's my way of life and it works
These cowardly niggas'll put fucking life in the dirt
it was wrong how they left my dog, he was priceless
Alone in the streets, bleeding, staring, lifeless
That's why I'm heated, you never know who starts
Waking you up with AK's you lie sleeping
I'd rather the heat and not need it
Rather than one and not have it, I married this Glock-matic

You know the sound when I'm round
Spitting rounds from four pounds
While the crowd screaming as loud
From they mouths as they possibly
Nothing is parallel to making you
Aerial somersault like ferris to a pair of shells
Denaun carry the nine I go
Bullets whistle and hit you I'm shooting at 5-0
Some semi-automatic for the motto
like *Columbine kids* from Colorado

This turn a softy to a hard rock
It'll make Jehovah's Witnesses, think before they (Sorry, sorry!)
It'll make your grandmother come her purse
make Limp Bizkit, get rid of Fred Durst
It'll make start fighting
It'll make Mase say church and go back to writing
It'll make say he sound like Biggie Smalls
It'll make R. Kelly, give to Aaron Hall
It'll make Christopher start walking
It'll make a dog with no voice, start barking
It'll a nun turn to a filthy slut
make the hardest pitbull, turn to a fucking mutt
It'll make a dye his hair blonde
It'll make a redneck start to the Holy Qu'ran (Need Jesus!)
It'll make Ike stop Tina
It'll make Slim fall back in love with Christina