Kool G Rap, Canibus - Gun Ho City lyrics

I'm biggest lifetime combat
When there's beef with a don cat
You rhyme with your peoples
You get put up in they contract
Two steps, rack a gat from the arm strap
Wet up your North Face
Severs like a swam bag
NYPD, be careful where you place your palm at
Rules to follow, a walking don like Diallo
Body donated to science, lungs in a bottle
Play and get laid flat as bums on a model
No drive-by
Connect your ear drum to the nozzle
It's gunplay all day, I fiddle with clips
Spray shot in the middle with clicks
Get your brains popped to Kibbles 'N Bit's
Halfway shots are riddle, the risk
Ain't no way pop griddle with this
Don't call it New York, this is Gun-Ho City
Leave your fuckin' head puffed up
Like done on Diddy
Shit bag on your stomach like
A fat ho's titties
Everything around me ugly, it ain't no pretty
Don't pause the green if the
Slain thrown is iffy cock back the thing
Drop the frame in a jiffy nigga tipsy
Holes in your bladder drain out the whisky
Fuck a fort, nigga
Turn up the flames 'till it's crispy
The flames on the side of your
Rings like whips in the 50's
Separate a nigga head from the
Frame like a mystic

Don't call it New York, this is Gun Ho City!
(Laugh that sounds like Vincent Price)
Don't call it New York, this is Gun Ho City!
Don't call it New York, this is Gun Ho City!

I walk in the room in the Dr doom costume
Zoom optic, the plot resumes
Trust me you're the abductee
My trigger finger touchy
Try me, see if you lucky
Blam, slam, desplam, motherfuckin' mayhem
Stupid, you can't contain him
Cause you trained him
Love the bad weather, freckle-faced lepers
Can't go outside, gotta stay together
Lodge members don't attempt to
Announce my name the brown sage
One year away from my crown age
Count the ways my sound waves been downplayed
USA underground made, I live without fame
Hard labor for the data reincarnator
Rip your carborator out your
Car and chase ya, i hate cha
I'm the Gun-Ho City mayor
Who's in charge out here? Who's the fuckface
Huh? Bang on you, dunk-slam on you
Cani get on you
Watch who you talk to, my manager warned you
Violatin, ' you rhyme weak, you libate
Put you behind the gate
With the five-eight primate
I improvise, explode, synthesize flows
Like your favorite MC with the wide nose
Command shell is a PSP hand held
In real time speed I could read fan mail
Grip the pound
Blitz the town with a two or three round
You'll never want that to go down
Spin around and shoot at you
180 degree cupola, attacks to my van on Utica
Next stop Gun Ho city, nigga, shoot 'em up
G Rap and Canibus PLOO 'em up