Song | Lay Ya Gunz Down |
Artist | Rappin' 4-Tay |
Album | 4 Tha Hard Way |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Forté | |
I be poppin' this game with the most infamous | |
Riders who be frontin' shit niggas known for killin' shit | |
Out on the run with your gun | |
Mr. Smith 'n Wesson makin' major connection | |
Stressin' but you pack protection | |
Dear Lord I'm prayin' | |
In whatever direction they out to get me | |
Stop breakin' laws for the cause haters out to kill me | |
Look what I'm facin' retaliation who's the man | |
Takin' out your anger but there's victim of circumstancers | |
Like little kids and brothas 'n sistas 'n cuzzins | |
But you don't give a **** cause you keep blowin 'em up | |
Spreadin 'n buckin 'em | |
Now what's your contribution life in an institution | |
Them guns you're usin' in this game got us brothas losin' everythang | |
And it's lookin' bad for the home team | |
Sometimes a gang'll have you caught up wit them tripple beams | |
No, never be a punk I'm coughin' off this chronic smoke | |
I know you ain't no joke | |
You's a bitch when you smoke your folks | |
[Chorus: x2] | |
Brothas are dyin' and bullets are flyin' | |
And mommas are cryin' | |
Mutha****a put them guns down | |
Babies are dyin' and mommas are cryin' | |
Because the bullets keep flyin' | |
Mutha****a lay dem guns down (lay dem guns down) | |
[Verse 2:] | |
They say it takes a man to walk away but **** that | |
So you's a man because you pack a .9 millami to Gat | |
That shit is old who you wanna impress all your friends | |
Cock the hammer back [?] stuck in the pen | |
That's what they want playa | |
Can't you see it's clear they | |
Shippin' them guns just like that coke so we can spray | |
It takes a fool to learn the devil loves nobody | |
Plus the trigga's got no heart, man **** a autopsy | |
We ripped off I'm pissed off my people's fallin' off | |
Tryin' to get a reputation find him with his head off in a ditch | |
So ain't that 'bout a bitch found out he was a snitch | |
So they kicked to the norch and never did a liquor time | |
That's why I spit these rhymes so hopefully | |
You can see the game is quick to hypnotise your mind | |
And if you let it you'll gettin' caught up | |
Thought he had your back but when the drama took place | |
Them fools was up now picture that | |
[Chorus: x2] | |
[Verse 3:] | |
Who can you trust when they buckin' up 'n down your block | |
Cause 911 is just a joke full of crooked cops | |
Nightstalkers creepin' thru your back | |
[?] but it be for real , man | |
That's just what them guns for | |
Cause it ain't no tellin' | |
Gots to always keep escape routes | |
Convicts and felons ain't the only fools | |
Takin 'em out for good punk I wish you would | |
I hope I'm understood because them funerals batch and batch | |
This ain't no good | |
Can't even stroll on the sunday with my kids and mother | |
I'm gettin' sick and tired | |
I'll always have a break for cover | |
With all this drama 'n hustlin' | |
A playa's tryin' to accomplish | |
And that's we all know another day is never promised | |
It's fault across the world not just up in California | |
You doin' dirt you best believe the dirt gon creep up on ya | |
Batterram here comes the F.B.I. and D.A. | |
When they come to buck you down it's hard to live a playa's way | |
[Chorus: x2] | |
[Outro:] | |
[?] | |
Bob Dole and Bill Clinton | |
Y'all need to holla at playa , dough | |
And all you TRU playas out there , man | |
Put them guns down | |
And that's real |
zuo ci : Forte | |
I be poppin' this game with the most infamous | |
Riders who be frontin' shit niggas known for killin' shit | |
Out on the run with your gun | |
Mr. Smith ' n Wesson makin' major connection | |
Stressin' but you pack protection | |
Dear Lord I' m prayin' | |
In whatever direction they out to get me | |
Stop breakin' laws for the cause haters out to kill me | |
Look what I' m facin' retaliation who' s the man | |
Takin' out your anger but there' s victim of circumstancers | |
Like little kids and brothas ' n sistas ' n cuzzins | |
But you don' t give a cause you keep blowin ' em up | |
Spreadin ' n buckin ' em | |
Now what' s your contribution life in an institution | |
Them guns you' re usin' in this game got us brothas losin' everythang | |
And it' s lookin' bad for the home team | |
Sometimes a gang' ll have you caught up wit them tripple beams | |
No, never be a punk I' m coughin' off this chronic smoke | |
I know you ain' t no joke | |
You' s a bitch when you smoke your folks | |
Chorus: x2 | |
Brothas are dyin' and bullets are flyin' | |
And mommas are cryin' | |
Mutha a put them guns down | |
Babies are dyin' and mommas are cryin' | |
Because the bullets keep flyin' | |
Mutha a lay dem guns down lay dem guns down | |
Verse 2: | |
They say it takes a man to walk away but that | |
So you' s a man because you pack a . 9 millami to Gat | |
That shit is old who you wanna impress all your friends | |
Cock the hammer back ? stuck in the pen | |
That' s what they want playa | |
Can' t you see it' s clear they | |
Shippin' them guns just like that coke so we can spray | |
It takes a fool to learn the devil loves nobody | |
Plus the trigga' s got no heart, man a autopsy | |
We ripped off I' m pissed off my people' s fallin' off | |
Tryin' to get a reputation find him with his head off in a ditch | |
So ain' t that ' bout a bitch found out he was a snitch | |
So they kicked to the norch and never did a liquor time | |
That' s why I spit these rhymes so hopefully | |
You can see the game is quick to hypnotise your mind | |
And if you let it you' ll gettin' caught up | |
Thought he had your back but when the drama took place | |
Them fools was up now picture that | |
Chorus: x2 | |
Verse 3: | |
Who can you trust when they buckin' up ' n down your block | |
Cause 911 is just a joke full of crooked cops | |
Nightstalkers creepin' thru your back | |
? but it be for real , man | |
That' s just what them guns for | |
Cause it ain' t no tellin' | |
Gots to always keep escape routes | |
Convicts and felons ain' t the only fools | |
Takin ' em out for good punk I wish you would | |
I hope I' m understood because them funerals batch and batch | |
This ain' t no good | |
Can' t even stroll on the sunday with my kids and mother | |
I' m gettin' sick and tired | |
I' ll always have a break for cover | |
With all this drama ' n hustlin' | |
A playa' s tryin' to accomplish | |
And that' s we all know another day is never promised | |
It' s fault across the world not just up in California | |
You doin' dirt you best believe the dirt gon creep up on ya | |
Batterram here comes the F. B. I. and D. A. | |
When they come to buck you down it' s hard to live a playa' s way | |
Chorus: x2 | |
Outro: | |
? | |
Bob Dole and Bill Clinton | |
Y' all need to holla at playa , dough | |
And all you TRU playas out there , man | |
Put them guns down | |
And that' s real |
zuò cí : Forté | |
I be poppin' this game with the most infamous | |
Riders who be frontin' shit niggas known for killin' shit | |
Out on the run with your gun | |
Mr. Smith ' n Wesson makin' major connection | |
Stressin' but you pack protection | |
Dear Lord I' m prayin' | |
In whatever direction they out to get me | |
Stop breakin' laws for the cause haters out to kill me | |
Look what I' m facin' retaliation who' s the man | |
Takin' out your anger but there' s victim of circumstancers | |
Like little kids and brothas ' n sistas ' n cuzzins | |
But you don' t give a cause you keep blowin ' em up | |
Spreadin ' n buckin ' em | |
Now what' s your contribution life in an institution | |
Them guns you' re usin' in this game got us brothas losin' everythang | |
And it' s lookin' bad for the home team | |
Sometimes a gang' ll have you caught up wit them tripple beams | |
No, never be a punk I' m coughin' off this chronic smoke | |
I know you ain' t no joke | |
You' s a bitch when you smoke your folks | |
Chorus: x2 | |
Brothas are dyin' and bullets are flyin' | |
And mommas are cryin' | |
Mutha a put them guns down | |
Babies are dyin' and mommas are cryin' | |
Because the bullets keep flyin' | |
Mutha a lay dem guns down lay dem guns down | |
Verse 2: | |
They say it takes a man to walk away but that | |
So you' s a man because you pack a . 9 millami to Gat | |
That shit is old who you wanna impress all your friends | |
Cock the hammer back ? stuck in the pen | |
That' s what they want playa | |
Can' t you see it' s clear they | |
Shippin' them guns just like that coke so we can spray | |
It takes a fool to learn the devil loves nobody | |
Plus the trigga' s got no heart, man a autopsy | |
We ripped off I' m pissed off my people' s fallin' off | |
Tryin' to get a reputation find him with his head off in a ditch | |
So ain' t that ' bout a bitch found out he was a snitch | |
So they kicked to the norch and never did a liquor time | |
That' s why I spit these rhymes so hopefully | |
You can see the game is quick to hypnotise your mind | |
And if you let it you' ll gettin' caught up | |
Thought he had your back but when the drama took place | |
Them fools was up now picture that | |
Chorus: x2 | |
Verse 3: | |
Who can you trust when they buckin' up ' n down your block | |
Cause 911 is just a joke full of crooked cops | |
Nightstalkers creepin' thru your back | |
? but it be for real , man | |
That' s just what them guns for | |
Cause it ain' t no tellin' | |
Gots to always keep escape routes | |
Convicts and felons ain' t the only fools | |
Takin ' em out for good punk I wish you would | |
I hope I' m understood because them funerals batch and batch | |
This ain' t no good | |
Can' t even stroll on the sunday with my kids and mother | |
I' m gettin' sick and tired | |
I' ll always have a break for cover | |
With all this drama ' n hustlin' | |
A playa' s tryin' to accomplish | |
And that' s we all know another day is never promised | |
It' s fault across the world not just up in California | |
You doin' dirt you best believe the dirt gon creep up on ya | |
Batterram here comes the F. B. I. and D. A. | |
When they come to buck you down it' s hard to live a playa' s way | |
Chorus: x2 | |
Outro: | |
? | |
Bob Dole and Bill Clinton | |
Y' all need to holla at playa , dough | |
And all you TRU playas out there , man | |
Put them guns down | |
And that' s real |