Текст песни Gut Shots 3

I'm with my boys in the hood, spitting the filth
You... swinging, in the air
Nigga please, a renegade on the mike
You never rhyme right
Yeah I'm hard to death, my barcode as a client's life
Rip a rapper to shreds, shoot in and let the cake cry
Sing you to the... for trying to snatch my yays off
Prolly... when I'm blazing your whole pad up
Strip you naked in the spot, portion of bad luck
I was down nigga, I'm back up
Homie back up,
Get your little soft ass smacked up either clapped up
Kuniva's a rebel who hired the rebel
Supplying the shovel to my people
After I fired the medal, bitch
You rocking stilettos, I'm on another level
You talk chop when you get confronted you
Backpedal, a maniac with the bars
A brainiac and because
I was taught by bank proofs spraying hammers and jobs
A dirty dozen... slap a rap rapper dead in his mouse
Pray in his house,... his spouse
I don't care who's there before you at the mouse
Leave you both sprayed on the couch... mouth
Enough bad talk, my lyrics alone kill on contact
When it's time for dirt, niggas asking where Kuniva at
Homie, we ain't family, don't even bother to speak to mine
Laying bodies side by side looks like they equal sign
I hear them whispering "another one crazy
He's unapproachable, is that that same robber from shining"
You damn right, you know my 8 time platinum dick
I'm a fat ugly bitch dildo, I'm back in this bitch
Fucking respect my son looking me
Like I'm the shit, nigga
My wife a real rap critics that I can spit
She... dick, serious, baby you sick
But she might be a little... because of the dick, haha
Cheesy laugh, don't ask about my group nigga
No matter what, for them I still shoot niggasKuniva - Gut Shots 3 - http://ru.motolyrics.com/kuniva/gut-shots-3-lyrics.html
We all family so you can get the shit without making it
You one of the people who never did shit
... wig, split up, who bust a shell of your wih
You wanna know the date you won't feel nigga
What's the use of spitting lyrical shit
It's only 3rd grade grammar that I'm killing you with
Never tend minded, smooth criminal
Homie I would... walk in your house
Pimping your woman, some used genitals
Backpack rapping the g shit
I choose to do it all, even fuck the police shit
I post it up... handcuff you a bitch
Oh you still talking shit
Like bitches can get the dick
The same niggas who helped your hip hop selling mill
It's funny how everybody talking bout doing bills
We did it, them bitches were saying it wasn't real
Like it wasn't created the same that we lack skill
But you can live
Now I drown in my enemy sink
My guns hyper over 5 hour energy drink
Get found dead, chickens get to blowing
That's the true meaning of hip hop there
Now shake up... in your dreams, upper cutting you
And you so pissy, you probably gonna wake up bleeding
My motto for any emcee or dj
Grab a... break it on your face, bash it instant replay
It's all good, aim for the stars
It's okay if you miss,
At least you'll hit someone not on the entourage
The hip hop devil's inside and hard to get out of
It's crazy people thinking you'll end up felon without it
It's just me homie I don't face but thug
All you'll be a text message typing hurt with a mug
Told you once before nigga that this ain't all rap
I'm bout to slap on a nigga,...
I ain't playing a game... and watch they brain splat
Marauder!