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Correct We Got Da Gats Lyrics
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Artists: G
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Grand Daddy I.U.
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Correct We Got Da Gats
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Lyrics:
Bo! Bo! Bo! Gimme all your dough, boy, it's like that You ain't got a gun, so how the hell you gonna fight back? You got to be out your mind I put you in the firing line and hit you off with the nine And bounce with the 40oz off on a mission Itchin' to send a nigga to the mortician Leavin' a bloody-ass mess, you best be blessed Anything test, pick up lead to the chest For those who got questions there's your answer Smoked so many niggaz, my gun got cancer Sendin' heads spinnin' like spokes when I smoke folks You want a head-up? Yo kid, you got jokes Kill all the crap and knock it off Unless you got a S on your chest I suggest you break north Cause the blood flow's thick when the slug goes Straight through your back from the .38 snub nose Think you some type of thug or a mugger Because you got a head full of gas and a Louisville slugger Well, I got somethin' more fat, it's called a gat And you can't beat that with a baseball bat So take your corny ass home Before I get vexed and put the Tec to your dome Now what's up, nigga [Chorus] You got your hands, we gots the gats You got your hands, we gots the gats You got your hands, we gots the gats And while you punks shootin joints, boy, the crew bust caps Yo, here I go again, rollin' with a fat Mac-10 And my nutsack's swinging dead smack on your chin I shoot to win, breakin' all laws in your area Causin' hysteria, pause or I bury ya Punk, that's how it goes, I ain't tradin' no blows I cop the glock and blow the snot out your nose You choose to scrap, I'm movin' back Your hands can't bruise the mack Who use the gat, so fuck that Call the police, boy, I got a nine mill' piece Loaded, cocked and aimed at your grill piece You say you're good with your fists, so swing at this My clips got 16 shots and don't miss So get strong, bring it on, nigga, yeah set it Claim you got a knuckle game, boy, you get deaded To hell with swingin' a right try to fight I ain't throwin' love taps, I bust caps, 'aight? Yeah, so drop your dukes or get hit up You get lit up, did up, can't get up so get your shit up I'm firm, my gun bust off like sperm Plus my hobby and job is buckin' niggaz full-term So yo, you better slide off the scene Cause all you got is 52 blocks, I got a M-16 Punk [Chorus] Lick a shot, lick a shot and another dead cop When the cop said stop, so I made his head pop Pulled the trigger, nigga didn't know who I am Bam-blam, now his ass in a jam Tryin' to get slick was a bad pick Brothers get had quick, the Steady Flow niggaz is mad thick Suckers I run through easy as 1-2 I don't know kung-fu but I bet you my gun do And that's the way it's goin' down, word to James Brown Save the games, clown before your back hit the ground Cause any fool who try to face the black guy Wounds I inflict need more than peroxide I ain't just givin' you a scar When I drop bombs your own moms won't even know who you are So how you feel about that, you 'bout to get jacked You got your hands, my man, I got the gat
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