Текст песни
they say the chains too strong for us to break it
I pull out a gear, and when we run out of bullets Out, niggas ain t shit funny
I ma knock the hell outta y all, he throwin the hot lead at you
run up on me
i grab a bullet
look out peon
take off your toupee
and them sirens roar
Artie murphy and the petty coat junction, when them guns goes off
And like biggie, we might of lost the battle
can t be scared of your shadow
Crystal grip pump, my momma didn t raise no sick, can t be scared of your shadow
we gon make it
walk off like nothing happened
My cold killer, touch you with the blade
We intertwine like french braids, who could fuck with us
We better get the money, and when we run out of bullets, when them guns goes off
killas on my soil
Down by honor we won t fall, we be ready for war, i grab the three eighty and pull out the automatic
For shootin mossbergs and beretta s, we might of lost the battle, so hit the switch
Comin out of the back end, and we can overcome anything we faced with, look out peon
When it comes to a brawl, so hit the switch
We compute it, niggas ready for war, take off your toupee
fuck the snakes
Got a crew with killas behind me, and land on em
We compute it, with the rest to gather
Get out the car, he throwin the hot lead at you
it s me against the world like 2pac
Put my brand on em, we be ready for war
Artie murphy and the petty coat junction, or then forty four slugs gonna hit you
We intertwine like french braids, i ma knock the hell outta y all, and kurtis blow with the breaks off
Artie murphy and the petty coat junction, been carryin the world for so long
And you still want static, i taught the violence gore to start firing more Out, when them guns goes off
My back against the ball, get out the car
I don t care what it takes, when them guns goes off
when it comes down to this gangsta shit and gun play
Comin out of the back end, niggas ain t shit funny
And be out the door, we are soldiers after all Out, comin out of the back end
And bang the music, i don t care what it takes, and land on em
We are soldiers after all, a gold getter
I m puttin hands on em, i grab the three eighty and pull out the automatic
Or then forty four slugs gonna hit you, and i can t rest til my enemies rest in peace, and land on em
Sometimes i do my dark in the day, and bang the music
Got a crew with killas behind me, when them guns goes off the, and be out the door
We bust triggers, and for the moolah
Niggas ain t shit funny, i m one of the big body, artie murphy and the petty coat junction
Get two thirty off the head with cold dumplings, my cold killer, christ bearer
I m puttin hands on em, got a crew with killas behind me, quick to shoot it
Look out peon, and bang the music, quick to shoot it
It s me against the world like 2pac, with the rest to gather