Gun Talk

Hustlers

Killers and drug dealers

Pimps, hoes

And all others down below

When bitch **** get you off your grind

****, grab the nine and

When fake **** try to cop the style

Cock the .40 cal and

If you don't like the way it's goin' down

****, grip the pound and

And if there's more than one that got to go

Grab the calico and

Real talk, The Inc 'bout to run New York

'Cause there's no real **** left to hold the torch

Who gon' hold us off?

But you don't read newspapers, ****

So let Ja tell it, that's Murder Inc, boys, that's real killers

Money launderin', tax evadin', drug dealers

Backed by Kenneth McGriff, y'all can't be serious

We just **** gettin' money, fuckin' all them bitches

And life or death can mean a matter of inches, you know

That .44 will handle his business

Like capital gains,  reload and hit 'em with interest, dang

What's so gangster 'bout these ****?

Now I got the full speed ****, led

Leave 'em dead over bread, or head

'Cause we done fuck on these same bitches

And you know they talk

May the pillows be my witness, my goodness

**** can't be this stupid

It's gun talk, **** better get used to it

When bitch **** get you off your grind

****, grab the nine and

When fake **** try to cop the style

Cock the .40 cal and

If you don't like the way it's goin' down

****, grip the pound and

And if there's more than one that got to go

Grab the calico and

Yeah, I don't care if you a criminal or cop

Shoot or get shot, I'm raised by the plot

Product of the haze, the gauge, and the Glock

And I keep a blade, I ain't afraid if it pop

The gauge to a gun, married, murdered one

Sleep with the fishes, tastin' red rum

Young and corrupted, nothing to fuck with

Straight out the gutter with no introductions

Our role models was force with hollows

Fuck slaws that swallow the fifth, I'll holla

The whip is Impala, weed twisting ganja

Load up the clips and flip your corner

They wanna be mourners, they goner

We gangster, gangster, point blank ya

Thank ya, **** keep me in the mood

They eat a **** food, I murder with rude (Bombs)

When bitch **** get you off your grind

****, grab the nine and

When fake **** try to cop the style

Cock the .40 cal and

If you don't like the way it's goin' down

****, grip the pound and

And if there's more than one that got to go

Grab the calico and

The nine, the cal, the pound, the co' (****)

The weed, the dope, the E, the coke (****)

The game is mine, that's all I know (Yeah)

I've been doin' this since '96, still holdin' Os

Self-load 3-8 Os, I let my hoes hold

Keep it in they Birkin in case of illegal searchin'

May y'all worship God and trust the gun

Ask for Your forgiveness, then send **** up

Fuckin' stick **** up, but these bitch **** touch

'Cause it's all about violence, real **** in silence

And all these **** whose guns got low mileage

Get duck-taped up, hogtied up in they houses

I'll make you watch while I fuck your spouse

This ain't business, it's personal

Gun talk when I holla, you're the first to know

How many hoes and how much blood has been lost  'cause

When bitch **** get you off your grind

****, grab the nine and

When fake **** try to cop the style

Cock the .40 cal and

If you don't like the way it's goin' down

****, grip the pound and

And if there's more than one that got to go

Grab the calico and

Yeah

Murder Inc

We right here, motherfuckers