La Coka Nostra - Gun In Your Mouth lyrics
[La Coka Nostra - Gun In Your Mouth lyrics]
For all the Charlestown bank robbers
This one's for you!
I'm a rob a bank then
I'm a bounce down south
With a smile on my face and
My gun in your mouth stick up the dope man
Y'all know what the fuck I'm about
With a smile on my face and
My gun in your mouth run your whole shit
Stash box under the couch
With a smile on my face and
My gun in your mouth
Run up in your mama's house
And air everyone out
With a smile on my face and
My gun in your mouth
Let's smoke a bundle of embalming fluid
Stick an armored car up, I'm a climb into it
All I need is an eight ball and nine to do it
I'll put the fucking driver in
The trauma unit or
I know some wannabes, sloppy with keys
With coke and cash in the crib
Probably trees
We'll get em drunk, passed out
And copy his keys open his door
Rope up his whore and then breeze
I know the time for a robbery
Is very long but it really doesn't bother me
I need to get rich
Bitch cause I'm drug sick
I got a mask, gloves, gun and a thug clique
Fuck a pig cop, faggot or a mug flick
We get away clean, we'll never be seen
And this is the American dream
So we fight for it, kill for it
Whatever it means
It's the iron man with the nine in his hand
Got my mind on my plan cause
I grind for the fam
Kick in the door waving the four-four
Run the kush and the cash
Get your ass on the floor
Ties his hands around his
Back with extension cords
He was slipping backstage at
The Source Awards
I call DMS, you call EMS, FDNY, NYPD
We get high committing strong-armed robberies
Don't matter if it's crack, heroin or trees
When the gun's in your face
You gonna open the safe
Unless you really wanna know
How a bullet'll taste
I pull hammers like double aces
My Desert Eagle's in your fucking faces
It's Billy Crystal, the fucking greatest
A really cool guy, run up on you, shoot nine
A fucking idiot, I ain't afraid to do time
Addicted to money
I ain't afraid to do crime
Addicted to pussy, X rated with two dimes
I fall asleep at night clutching the biscuit
Hiding the kilo of cocaine in
A bucket of chicken
Listen, we big earners with big burners
A bunch of murderers fuck a heater
I'll beat you to death with furniture
Throw chairs and tables, kitchen sinks
Listen bitch
We the shit, motherfucker this is it
We the real thing
We bring Scorsese to reality
I turn horrifying behavior into salaries
I jump out a helicopter and pop you
Run up on you while you're in
Burger King eating a Whopper
This one's for you!
I'm a rob a bank then
I'm a bounce down south
With a smile on my face and
My gun in your mouth stick up the dope man
Y'all know what the fuck I'm about
With a smile on my face and
My gun in your mouth run your whole shit
Stash box under the couch
With a smile on my face and
My gun in your mouth
Run up in your mama's house
And air everyone out
With a smile on my face and
My gun in your mouth
Let's smoke a bundle of embalming fluid
Stick an armored car up, I'm a climb into it
All I need is an eight ball and nine to do it
I'll put the fucking driver in
The trauma unit or
I know some wannabes, sloppy with keys
With coke and cash in the crib
Probably trees
We'll get em drunk, passed out
And copy his keys open his door
Rope up his whore and then breeze
I know the time for a robbery
Is very long but it really doesn't bother me
I need to get rich
Bitch cause I'm drug sick
I got a mask, gloves, gun and a thug clique
Fuck a pig cop, faggot or a mug flick
We get away clean, we'll never be seen
And this is the American dream
So we fight for it, kill for it
Whatever it means
It's the iron man with the nine in his hand
Got my mind on my plan cause
I grind for the fam
Kick in the door waving the four-four
Run the kush and the cash
Get your ass on the floor
Ties his hands around his
Back with extension cords
He was slipping backstage at
The Source Awards
I call DMS, you call EMS, FDNY, NYPD
We get high committing strong-armed robberies
Don't matter if it's crack, heroin or trees
When the gun's in your face
You gonna open the safe
Unless you really wanna know
How a bullet'll taste
I pull hammers like double aces
My Desert Eagle's in your fucking faces
It's Billy Crystal, the fucking greatest
A really cool guy, run up on you, shoot nine
A fucking idiot, I ain't afraid to do time
Addicted to money
I ain't afraid to do crime
Addicted to pussy, X rated with two dimes
I fall asleep at night clutching the biscuit
Hiding the kilo of cocaine in
A bucket of chicken
Listen, we big earners with big burners
A bunch of murderers fuck a heater
I'll beat you to death with furniture
Throw chairs and tables, kitchen sinks
Listen bitch
We the shit, motherfucker this is it
We the real thing
We bring Scorsese to reality
I turn horrifying behavior into salaries
I jump out a helicopter and pop you
Run up on you while you're in
Burger King eating a Whopper