RZA, Startel - Put Your Guns Down lyrics
[RZA, Startel - Put Your Guns Down lyrics]
Niggas never grow up
Some drink til they throw up
Some sniff that cocaine til they
Fucking brains blow up
Grass junkies, drunk on that Brass Monkey
Walk around wit the brain of a Crash Dummie
How the fuck you gonna try
To gas cash from me?
You be in the House of a 1
000 Corpse like Rob Zombie
Culture this I God, all inside your iPod
Cuz my squad, nigga is die hard
Put your guns down, shoot a few rounds
Fifty-two blocks, put that ass on the ground
Rocket launcher on my shoulder
World's getting colder
Hood's like Iraq, and I'm just a soldier
Niggas creep, yo, check it, yo, yo
Welcome to the City of God
Where it's gritty and hard
And these dogs walk around at least
Fifty a squad saying give me a yard, trynna
Split me a broad
Maybe, spit me a dart, so I could
Get me a car
Niggas creep, half can't read or speak
Shoot the whole crib
Buckwild like Little Zeke
From the slums, yeah, we be the blind
Deaf and dumb we got six year old sons
Knowing how to use a gun
They would shoot and don't think about it
Won't even blink about it
Go home, lay on momma breast, nigga
Drink about it
So while you huff and you puff
Like you rough and tough
Your ass turn to a bitch
Once you in the cuffs
Nobody understands me, not even my family
Most important man on the planet
Still they ban me
Instead of giving praises and
Revealing a Grammy
They'd rather see me stressed out
Concealing my jammy
Hoping I got smoked out and broke like Sammy
Spent the wheel of fortune then
Get struck wit a whammy
Never that, black, I got my act together
How can hip hop be dead
When Wu Tang is forever?
Some drink til they throw up
Some sniff that cocaine til they
Fucking brains blow up
Grass junkies, drunk on that Brass Monkey
Walk around wit the brain of a Crash Dummie
How the fuck you gonna try
To gas cash from me?
You be in the House of a 1
000 Corpse like Rob Zombie
Culture this I God, all inside your iPod
Cuz my squad, nigga is die hard
Put your guns down, shoot a few rounds
Fifty-two blocks, put that ass on the ground
Rocket launcher on my shoulder
World's getting colder
Hood's like Iraq, and I'm just a soldier
Niggas creep, yo, check it, yo, yo
Welcome to the City of God
Where it's gritty and hard
And these dogs walk around at least
Fifty a squad saying give me a yard, trynna
Split me a broad
Maybe, spit me a dart, so I could
Get me a car
Niggas creep, half can't read or speak
Shoot the whole crib
Buckwild like Little Zeke
From the slums, yeah, we be the blind
Deaf and dumb we got six year old sons
Knowing how to use a gun
They would shoot and don't think about it
Won't even blink about it
Go home, lay on momma breast, nigga
Drink about it
So while you huff and you puff
Like you rough and tough
Your ass turn to a bitch
Once you in the cuffs
Nobody understands me, not even my family
Most important man on the planet
Still they ban me
Instead of giving praises and
Revealing a Grammy
They'd rather see me stressed out
Concealing my jammy
Hoping I got smoked out and broke like Sammy
Spent the wheel of fortune then
Get struck wit a whammy
Never that, black, I got my act together
How can hip hop be dead
When Wu Tang is forever?