Gun Ballad

Call me the fuckin milkman, cause I’m boutta hit your block

Strapped up in a car seat, we finna spin on the opps

Sitting in the passenger, you can say I called shotgun

Finger on the pin, yeah I’m ready to deliver some toxin

Cause you know that shit coiled like a motherfuckin viper

I’m basically a reptile, cause I’m a cold-blooded sniper

And I bring all the fuckin venom when I pull the trigger and fire

Constrict and reload that shit, and then I proceed to strike ya

Those bullets in slow motion look like miniature rockets

Got myself a handful of bodies, skeletons in my closet

But none of this shit phases me, I got money in my pocket

Violence is my fucking blood type so I ain’t never stoppin

Because I’m getting my green from painting the block red

Clips loaded like stacks, I’m leaving enemies dead

Got an opp in the torso and now his ass full of lead

Left that bitch in the dust while he cried out and bled

Leaving a trail of guts like evil Hansel and Gretel

This is gang shit, I’m putting the pedal to the metal

Opps can’t counter my attacks, I cut sharp like a bevel

Cause this is gang shit and I ain’t never gonna settle

I got the Glock locked, cocked, ready to pop

I’m boutta spin your block, make it hot at any spot

Never gonna stop till you hear the tick-tock and drop

Hear the shot and remember to me you’re just another opp

I’m whippin out the steel, these bullets make you squeal

Cause the pain gonna be real, you gonna hit a slump and kneel

Show you not to step in my field, this chrome got appeal

Shoulda brought a shield, cause now you’re never gonna heal