Throw Your Guns Lyrics & Tabs by The Firm
Throw Your Guns
guitar chords lyrics
Intro: AZ The Visualiza
Y'know, personally, I'm for the paper
As long as we all see doe
(Yo yo, big boys play for large sums) Yeah, uhuh
(Even bitches got their shit tight) Ha ha ha
Alright (If you're wit us throw your guns up, what the f**k?
Form a philly, cock your shit back and bust
Verse One: Half-A-Mil
You acquired the knowledge, my brainwaves cause riots in college
Science scholar in this world of violence and dollars
Firm rappin' God from the projects
It ain't hard, from medicate cars to platinum cars, my click is that large
To get they dick licked and back massaged by rich chicks
who rock Versace bras in the drop, watchin the stars
Yo, the conquest is ours, mission accomplished, shittin on Congress
To get they dick licked and back massaged by rich chicks
who rock Versace bras in the drop, watchin the stars
Yo, the conquest is ours, mission accomplished, shittin on Congress
Benz whipped with the 6, on this
8 trillion tonnes, when I appear reptilians run
From affilions, willions?
Like Indians, your style's a dream, we pop crystal and drive Bentleys in
the same streets you can't get a penny in
All my real shoot-out niggas hear me when
Half-A-Mil shoot out with Bohemians, calicos spittin' in
Niggas splittin in the same position they sittin in
What sentencin'? We got too much Benjamins
We even got triple six I-E-M plastic currency with?
Images *? of Quentin?* in, my niggas lay back
We use to pump a G, now we pump 100-K packs
Guns aimed at, destroy your whole world like *? K-mat?*
What part of the game's that? The curse, my hot verse is flame rap
Players got the game trapped, I be the king mack
All my bitches mine til they bring crack...
Chorus: AZ
Yo yo, big boys play for large sums
Stack up, strategise, watch the cons come
It's all a game, even bitches got their shit tight
On the scene, 18, suckin' dick right, and sip right
If you're wit us throw your guns up, what the f**k?
Form a philly, cock your shit back and bust
Verse Two: AZ (aka Sosa)
What? From NY to New Orleans, we all fiends
Court scenes, flashbacks to kidnaps and fought CREAM
Guns bussin, stash house out in Flushing
Corruption, killer men-tal is foul adjustin'
Cold nights, handled the streets my whole life
Back off? kikes, focus for niggas who lost sight
Travel thought wise, beyond light years, way across skies
Short-i's, so many makin' livin off lies
Anti up, hopin' my new shorty don't stand me up
It had me stuck, after this session, I plan to f**k
Hot pursuit, a real splittin' image of Pop Duke
Block laso's, paper player part of my roots
So what'cha grow, Shelley? I lit his game so sincerely
Really, most rap cats couldn't come near me
So it's either or Peter pay Paul, you and yours
Fools are frost, regulate life thru rules and laws...
Chorus
Verse Three: Half-A-Mil
Firm official, 8-50 I, burnin' pistol
Black Magnum P-I, mack V-I, willie hat
Half beehive, wise guy, '95 I
look in my eye, praisin' Allah, project aimin rod
Greatest star Agbar, pushin a hot car
Shark Bar, private engagement, live entertainment
I grab mics and I explain it
How I went from the brawns to the brainless
to the minds of the wise and the famous
Nigga's wives admire the guy's arrangers
Kick off their wedding rings to give head to the king
It's just a Cheddar thing, Amaretto, Armani leather thing
We in to better things like wettin' the brains
Jumpin outta stretches and minks, crime connected with link
Up in the club buyin' drinks, bitches eyein' the spinks
Hustler haters hate us, my guns say "F**k what they think"
Once I copped a Hummer this summer with a buttoned-up mink
Chorus
Outro: AZ the Visualiza
Bitches got their shit tight
If you're wit us throw your guns up, what the f**k?
Form a philly, cock your shit back and bust
