Vinnie Paz, Slaine, ILL BILL, Rite Hook - Still Got My Gun lyrics
[Vinnie Paz, Slaine, ILL BILL, Rite Hook - Still Got My Gun lyrics]
Square peg in a round hole
I learned to do my dirt on the down low
Had to make some moves that would sound bold
But in that same dirt, I had found gold
So they label me a scoundrel
Guess I had a ruffle a couple
Feathers on my way up but I'm a hustler
I didn't give a fuck if I
Gotta harm ya or muscle ya
I been armed with the tools that we
Use in the trade of a renegade
Thrive in a game
You're not able to penetrate
I'm not the same as you, I'm tried and true
This is something I died to do
Part of learning how to fly
Eventually, you hit the ground, crashin'
But at the bottom of the pain
I had found passion
Though I been gone for a minute
Now I'm back in it
We either overcome the past or
Get trapped in it
There's a lot of things in life I know
We can go up so high and low
A lot of things I left behind
That I once called mine
But I still got my gun my gun, my gun
I still got my gun
Violently designed like the Trolls of Asgard
Silencers the size of a grown man's arm
Listen, the scope pivot like a cyclops
Chrome so heavy the shooter had
To use a tripod (Bong)
The pistol long like a pool stick
Hammer hit the hollow like a
Baby in the womb kick
Listen, visual verb, missile swerve
Hit your herbs feel the pistol burn
Hit you like a whistling bird
All it take is half a shotty
For half your body to fly a half a block at
Your fuckin' block party
Pussy, your every word have a period
Your album comes with a free
Bo of tampons for serious
My lyricism's the littyiest
Carry the torch for Brooklyn like
Sean P and Biggie did
My demographic be Henny and Acid
My algorithms are savage and
My religion is madness
There's a lot of things in life I know
We can go up so high and low
A lot of things I left behind
That I once called mine
But I still got my gun my gun, my gun
I still got my gun
Boko Haram, stay calm, strapped with a bomb
Behind the mask of God
He can trap the divine
I got numbers and statistics
It's a matter of time
I'ma hit him with the 50, paw
Shaq at the line and them fiends lined up
They be pacin' for days
Had a yopper put a hole
Inside his cranial cave
How the fuck is you gon' walk
Into a maze in a daze?
Muhfuckas being deviant and say it's a phase
This ain't fun and games over here
We make money and y'all is always gon' be
Second like Chase Utley
This muhfucka think he the wolf
He the same puppy
It's the same mask, same 45
And the same Duffy you a goofy homie
We was never meant to be cool
I was taking people shit in elementary school
Feel it with both hands paw
Read it in braille
And the whopper always with me homie
Kenan and Kel toma!
There's a lot of things in life I know
We can go up so high and low
A lot of things I left behind
That I once called mine
But I still got my gun my gun, my gun
I still got my gun
I learned to do my dirt on the down low
Had to make some moves that would sound bold
But in that same dirt, I had found gold
So they label me a scoundrel
Guess I had a ruffle a couple
Feathers on my way up but I'm a hustler
I didn't give a fuck if I
Gotta harm ya or muscle ya
I been armed with the tools that we
Use in the trade of a renegade
Thrive in a game
You're not able to penetrate
I'm not the same as you, I'm tried and true
This is something I died to do
Part of learning how to fly
Eventually, you hit the ground, crashin'
But at the bottom of the pain
I had found passion
Though I been gone for a minute
Now I'm back in it
We either overcome the past or
Get trapped in it
There's a lot of things in life I know
We can go up so high and low
A lot of things I left behind
That I once called mine
But I still got my gun my gun, my gun
I still got my gun
Violently designed like the Trolls of Asgard
Silencers the size of a grown man's arm
Listen, the scope pivot like a cyclops
Chrome so heavy the shooter had
To use a tripod (Bong)
The pistol long like a pool stick
Hammer hit the hollow like a
Baby in the womb kick
Listen, visual verb, missile swerve
Hit your herbs feel the pistol burn
Hit you like a whistling bird
All it take is half a shotty
For half your body to fly a half a block at
Your fuckin' block party
Pussy, your every word have a period
Your album comes with a free
Bo of tampons for serious
My lyricism's the littyiest
Carry the torch for Brooklyn like
Sean P and Biggie did
My demographic be Henny and Acid
My algorithms are savage and
My religion is madness
There's a lot of things in life I know
We can go up so high and low
A lot of things I left behind
That I once called mine
But I still got my gun my gun, my gun
I still got my gun
Boko Haram, stay calm, strapped with a bomb
Behind the mask of God
He can trap the divine
I got numbers and statistics
It's a matter of time
I'ma hit him with the 50, paw
Shaq at the line and them fiends lined up
They be pacin' for days
Had a yopper put a hole
Inside his cranial cave
How the fuck is you gon' walk
Into a maze in a daze?
Muhfuckas being deviant and say it's a phase
This ain't fun and games over here
We make money and y'all is always gon' be
Second like Chase Utley
This muhfucka think he the wolf
He the same puppy
It's the same mask, same 45
And the same Duffy you a goofy homie
We was never meant to be cool
I was taking people shit in elementary school
Feel it with both hands paw
Read it in braille
And the whopper always with me homie
Kenan and Kel toma!
There's a lot of things in life I know
We can go up so high and low
A lot of things I left behind
That I once called mine
But I still got my gun my gun, my gun
I still got my gun