Soundtracks: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

List of artists: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #



Recommended site
A-Z Lyrics Universe
Lyrics/song texts are property and copyright of their owners and provided for educational purposes.

Pistol Lyrics by D-12

 

Pistol by D-12


Yeah, welcome to Amityville
Detroit, nigga
The reason why rappers gotta pack pistols
Why is that?
Slick criminal wit the shit I spit chews
Like a bullet came back, that just missed and hit you
I say the type of shit, parents slit their wrists to
Need an anthem to amp you, then this the shit to
Too many enemies on my list to sift through
Nobody got my back in this bitch but this do
Sorry officer, I don't care how pissed it get you
But I don't go nowhere without my pistol, pistol
Nigga, we violently active, so fuck with us
See I'm backwards, I slap niggas and punch bitches
Just for askin', they must've been wantin' to meet the Lord
When my parents talked to me, they got mean, mugged and ignored
They were snoopin' through my closet, seen drugs on the floor
Shells from the forty-four, scattered over they porch
Bustin' pistols in your windows with intentions to destroy you
Tryin' to break your neck to conversate? Bitch, I'll do it for you
Catch me laughin' at your funeral when they lower you
You and yo' ho, you gots to go, bitches died slow and horrible
There's no tomorrow fo', any nigga we'll shower you
We young strapped and powerful, bitch and I ain't gotta lie to you
Stepped in the door, wavin' the fo'-fo'
Blazin' at po-po, escapin' and lay low
They call my tongue ya-yo but I spit fire
I lit five inside a fuckin' dickrider
The clip slider, love to blast a Mag
You a fag, you love bein' ass to ass
Grab a gun by the nose with the butt to gat, spank ya
Never say that I'm a gangsta, now that's gangsta
Y'all niggaz sound like Jigga but act like 'Pac
Yo, my trigger got the flu and this gat might cough
It ain't nuttin' to tell, empty shells for the witness
I'm the hot nigga, that's gon' put hell outta business
It won't be the same since we touchin' the game
Make the hardest nigga in your crew, tuck in his chain
Y'all think this shit's a game and I'm bluffin' for fame?
I'll squeeze off this tech until nothin' remains
Slick criminal wit the shit I spit chews
Like a bullet came back, that just missed and hit you
I say the type of shit, parents slit their wrists to
Need an anthem to amp you, then this the shit to
Too many enemies on my list to sift through
Nobody got my back in this bitch but this do
Sorry officer, I don't care how pissed it get you
But I don't go nowhere without my pistol, pistol
The only time that I'm at peace, is when I'm close to one
'Cause I don't know what's waitin' for me when my vocals are done
Tote the gun, it's my way of life and it works
These cowardly niggaz'll put yo' fuckin' life in the dirt
'Cause it was wrong how they left my dog, he was priceless
Alone in the streets, bleedin', starin', layin' lifeless
That's why I'm heated, you never know who starts creepin'
Wakin' you up with AK's while you lie sleepin'
I'd rather pack the heat and not need it
Rather than need one and not have it, I married this Glock-matic
Nowhere without my gun
You know the sound
When I'm spinnin' round, spittin' these rounds from fo' pounds
While the whole crowd screamin' as loud from they mouths
As they possibly allow?
Nothing is parallel to making you carousel
Arial sommersault like ferris, wheels to a pair of shells
Denaun carry the nine where I go
Bullets whistle and hit you while I'm shootin' at five-oh
Some semi-automatic for static's the motto
Spittin' like from Colorado
Slick criminal wit the shit I spit chews
Like a bullet came back, that just missed and hit you
I say the type of shit, parents slit their wrists to
Need an anthem to amp you, then this the shit to
Too many enemies on my list to sift through
Nobody got my back in this bitch but this do
Sorry officer, I don't care how pissed it get you
But I don't go nowhere without my pistol, pistol
This nine'll turn a softy to a hard rock
It'll make Jehovah's Witnesses, think before they knock, sorry, sorry
It'll make your grandmother come out of a purse
It'll make Limp Bizkit, get rid of Fred Durst
It'll make Holyfield start fightin'
It'll make Ma$e say, "Fuck church" and go back to writin'
It'll make Shyne say he sound like Biggie Smalls
It'll make R. Kelly, give respect to Aaron Hall
It'll make Christopher Reeves start walkin'
It'll make a dog with no voice, suddenly start barkin'
It'll make a nun turn to a filthy slut
It'll make the hardest pitbull, turn to a fuckin' mutt
It'll make a Muslim dye his hair blonde
It'll make the redneck start to read the Holy Qu'ran
It'll make Ike stop beatin' Tina
It'll make Slim Shady fall back in love with Christina
Slick criminal wit the shit I spit chews
Like a bullet came back, that just missed and hit you
I say the type of shit, parents slit their wrists to
Need an anthem to amp you, then this the shit to
Too many enemies on my list to sift through
Nobody got my back in this bitch but this do
Sorry officer, I don't care how pissed it get you
But I don't go nowhere without my pistol, pistol
Ha, nigga, nigga, nigga, you better have an aim
'Cause if you don't, you finished
Flat out, nigga, nigga, nigga
What? Fuck around and get popped with no hesitation, straight up
Look at where the fuck we stay at
Nigga, look where the fuck we stay at
Fuck around with us, you good as popped
You fuckin' good as popped
You good as popped