Luyện nghe bài hát Pistol Pistol

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

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

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

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

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

You know the sound when I'm round
Spitting these from four pounds
the whole crowd screaming as loud
From mouths as they possibly allow?
Nothing is parallel to making you
Aerial somersault like wheels to a pair of shells
Denaun carry the where I go
whistle and hit you while I'm shooting at 5-0
Some semi-automatic for static's the
Spitting like *Columbine from Colorado

This nine'll turn a softy to a rock
It'll make Witnesses, think before they knock (Sorry, sorry!)
It'll make your grandmother outta her purse
It'll make Bizkit, get rid of Fred Durst
It'll make Holyfield fighting
make Mase say fuck 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, suddenly barking
It'll make a nun to a filthy slut
It'll make the pitbull, turn to a fucking mutt
It'll a Muslim dye his hair blonde
It'll a redneck start to read the Holy Qu'ran (Need Jesus!)
It'll make Ike beating Tina
It'll make Slim fall back in love with Christina