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    Tech N9ne / Lyrics

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    "Gunz Will Bust" Lyrics

    Tech N9ne

    Verse 1

    I know you know this is Kansas City
    Where nigga life don't mean shit
    So step to and immediately get yo dome split
    I pack heat for days run street wit K's and hollow's
    On a concrete crusade you made the pill now swallow
    You never thought tomorrow
    You see me beam up all strapped down wit a pump
    Searchin' for the niggas on a hunt
    Jerkin' on the trigga when I dump
    It's not a game dude my killaz will mangle

    Anything in my range fool
    When hatin' get framed moved
    We play the same rules
    Bussin' all 32 shot
    Lookin' to murder you
    Glock they never heard of you
    Shocked that I'm comin' servin' you
    Snug brim get flashin' innocent til I'm provin' guilty
    Snug brim get to blast in
    And fuck the homicide charge I got expazito
    A mob figure plus a lawyer and do work for kiloz'
    You know the steelo real niggas never talk just listen
    This deuce shit comin' wit heat up out the kitchen

    Rough niggas in the street will bust 4 the bread
    And meat deuce 57th Street and 7 deuce be packin' heat punks
    Get the fuck away from we,

    for we buckin' these mutha fuckin' G.U.N.Z.
    Dem no won fuck with us
    4 what I believe I will die
    Dem no won fuck with us
    If any hataz wanna try
    Hands gon throw gunz with bust
    Real niggas run the streets with they gats up
    Everything you got and owns getting' snatched up

    Verse 2
    If you're my enemy my energy
    Your rhymes are elementary get lost in penitentiaries
    When I begin this century so mention me
    And Imma heat the track up if it's loo of you demons
    I suggest you go get back up
    Load the mac up don't slack up Imma act up on
    Any mutha fucka that think he got his clown suit on get
    Stepped on destroy your mind you're wasting your time

    Cause when I spit a fucking rhyme I got a million in line
    To listen to me, a bitch to do me nick naming
    me hollow tip with a stand off clip
    That'll kill your click and will kill your brain if you can't maintain
    Better slow your roll boy money hungry ain't no ho boy
    That's for sure boy and ya know boy I'll whip your ass like four boys
    You're a decoy I'm the real thang I'm a genius you're a pea brain
    Get pissed on and whipped on
    so who you talkin' shit on Imma spit on
    Any negative spirit that step to me try to take my soul
    From under me but I got a lifetime warranty


    Verse 3
    Skatterman cat
    Persistantly dirty
    From KC
    Where in the drought we pay 50 for birdies package short
    I call Snug and just give him the word he take ya face
    Before he tell on me they'll get him 4 purgery
    Hustla's shoot shit
    Rob shit
    Loot shit
    Hard core convicts
    Mob shit
    If you snitch, killin'em on Tech's new shit (new shit)
    Dude we crossin' the color line
    Nuff money
    Nuff weed
    Make a tuff nigga colorblind
    We rap 4 curb servers
    That hop in and out of cars
    Rep 4 cats wit 3rd murderers
    That pop in and out of bars
    D12, Strange Music, Rogue Dogs
    Regime, Duce Click, Doe Boyz, Yong Gunz
    Same team
    Same beams
    Niggas that a split ya cherries
    Vigilanty's mutha fuckas with permits to carry
    Bitch you scary
    Fuck you and that bitch you married
    Cross anyone I named
    That shit will get you buried


    Verse 4
    It's all out war 4 the punks funk finna jump
    Chumps get a lump when I dump tonks 4 the bianks
    Gump wanna thump over pumps and a bump
    Rumps get it krunk when I skunk runts
    Imma munk what you bunk niggas want fuck
    What you thunk you get sunk in and trunk
    Fuck that we done heard and took enough crap
    Trust we bust back when muskrats bust caps
    I'm tryin' to touch scratch and bring my hell to parties and
    For the last time mutha fuck Vell Bakardi
    You cannot rap with me scrap with me
    Nigga to the back of me catastrophe
    Hits yo shits raggedy it had to be this tragedy shit
    Suck it up don't be mad at me bitch I'm glad to be rich
    You gets none with that fagoty pitch
    Imma ex poppin' shroom droppin' rock and roll star
    You's a no coppin' ho stalkin' drunk and a old fart it's a shame
    Think you quick but you heard we flow quicker plus the bitches
    Don't wanna fuck a black herpe nose nigga
    This is it yaw, dump this pussy off I a pit dog
    Doe stackin' and hip hop it must not be his nitch yaw
    So take the chicken exit, Technina's whassup
    Next time grown folks talkin' you shut the fuck up
    This song was last modified on November 23rd, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC.
    Written by Aaron Yates.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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