50 Cent, Ransom, Hitchcock - Gunz for Sale lyrics

50 Cent [Curtis James Jackson III]

[50 Cent, Ransom, Hitchcock - Gunz for Sale lyrics]

Yea! A Team Nigga, 50 Cent

We got them semi automatics
And we got them revolvers
We them niggas you should get at
If you got a problem
When them hollow tips hit 'em
Man that should solve 'em
We got the lugers with rugers and
M1s and they all for sale
That 9mm, got that 10mm
And that little duece duece
(and they all for sale)
Got that new trey pound
And that old four pound
You can use once or twice
(and they all for sale)

When it comes to the beef, I been a vet
Got an AK, SKs and the InterTech
If your into vests


I got hollows for the pistol
Official, That rip through your
Skin and flesh
We the wrong men to test, I got a gun
Don't try to run when you see
The long Amiff n Wess
Cause you don't wanna see me hyper
I keep the pump in the
Trunk like the DC sniper
And it's next to the dusty crate
With the lugers and rugers
And the rusty Eigth
And most of the custies hate (Why?)
Cause I got so many guns
They think I must be Jake
I'm tryna get dough, everybody get low
Cause I still won't hessitate to
Let the Tech blow your whole team is petrol
Cause everybody know we stay strapped
Like cocaine and Freddro (So?)
When you see me burn rubber
I put the 45 to your
Jersey like Jordan returning

I got a 50 cal
Once you start dumping it's over
I Mac 90, take dump in the trunk of the Novas
Its about time you becoming a soldier
With a couple Nines and a fresh box
You'll be slumping 'em over
Plus I got a couple things in the duffle bag
Like a couple Mags
And a snubb nose Glock with the rubber grasp
And I got a good deal for a hundred cash
You could get a tough pair of
Gloves and a leather mask
Got a Glock 17, it's kinda beat up
But it works all it needs is a better beam
And if you get your cream
I could shoot to my cousins house
Get a nice peace you ain't never seen
I got a vest for your body, An M16, SK
O Tech and a Shotty
Whatever niggas need I got it
From knives to guns, teflon torpedo rockets
I know a bunch of killers
And after Ran serve'em a gun
Them niggas catch bodies like Bruce Willis

Infrared on your head
Ain't no sense in you running
It hit your leg and your head
And you ain't see me coming
Niggas never know how to act
Till you run up on 'em in
The street with the gat
Click Blaow! Old rats

Switched to the lobby, lead in your lungs
There's rugers left and a shotty and
The head of your son

The bigger the size, the better the gun
Something like Jessy the body was
Spitting in Predator 1

And for the most case, all your tools fake
I keep a bald desert eagle like Ghostface

Who get the most cake
Point 'em out to me now
The 4-5th will make him float in a close lake

Its a closed case, so don't tempt me to flip
For I empty the clip in your whole face

I leave no trace, just a couple of Techs
A chrome Nine, I could scuffle my sweats

So cut me a check
If you don't really want me to stress
Or get left under your car
Like Chuckie in Fresh

Yooo 2003, we invading the streets
Ain't shit you can do without us ha ha ha ha

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