| Song | Gimme Gimme Gunshots |
| Artist | P.O.S. |
| Album | Ipecac Neat |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Turbo Nemesis | |
| (Well, some of you might be sayin' like they tryin' not to like us | |
| But we, we want you to know we good) | |
| I am a gun | |
| {Huh} | |
| Okay frustration takes a fast cat | |
| And slows 'em down like a bullet forced through layers | |
| of disgusting Biggie Smalls fat | |
| Still gets the job done, | |
| But only now it takes like ten gun claps to stab the fat of just one | |
| The effort of a bullet through a hero Cheesecake armor | |
| Doesn't make him less a hero, more a metaphor for life, | |
| My effort works in full clips | |
| Only hero is a farmer | |
| Cause he helps me fatten up and that's my bullet into strife | |
| I knew this guy, hell bent on getting over | |
| I said help me paint this Fence, shit | |
| "Oh my god it's fun!" | |
| But it wasn't... I called him Huckleberry Fuckup | |
| Cause he pulled that crap like every day and nothing ever got done | |
| The frustrated, crumble under the weight of their own | |
| bungling hate of their own brain | |
| Effort's like a gunshot - a split second of man-made perfection | |
| Dial up speed and direction | |
| So.. | |
| [Chorus] | |
| Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
| Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
| Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
| Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
| Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
| Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
| Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
| Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
| Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme guns | |
| [Bridge] | |
| I can't deny it, I'm a straight rider | |
| You don't wanna fuck with DoomTree | |
| [Verse 2] | |
| I've got ambitions of a writer | |
| Like another famed victim of effort | |
| Less effort though | |
| Well...I guess he took it and smiled | |
| Five shots couldn't stop the knowledge dropper | |
| Turned Posthumous tip jar and clone donor | |
| But fifteen could | |
| (maybe it was 14) | |
| Give me the strength to pierce, flesh | |
| The highest caliber of focus that'll give me death | |
| The hammer pin, powder push | |
| A simple try'll do, I won't lie to you | |
| I'm simply trying to let that blood gush | |
| I'm simply trying to slip past mediocrity's lips | |
| Just wanna kill that bitch from the inside, | |
| The thorny Doom branch on the side of every blank loaded | |
| Armchair thinker, and backseat liver | |
| Your Parents mock people like Anne Rice | |
| You parody passion | |
| My bullet will will not think twice before before bashing | |
| (I won't) | |
| (thank god i put effort into every little fucking thing i do) | |
| So.. | |
| [Chorus] | |
| Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
| Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
| Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
| Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
| Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
| Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
| Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
| Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
| Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Uh Uh Uh | |
| Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
| Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
| Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
| Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
| Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
| Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
| Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
| Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
| Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme g' gimme gimme gimme guns | |
| (Bang) | |
| (Pow) | |
| (stop the beat) |
| zuo qu : Turbo Nemesis | |
| Well, some of you might be sayin' like they tryin' not to like us | |
| But we, we want you to know we good | |
| I am a gun | |
| Huh | |
| Okay frustration takes a fast cat | |
| And slows ' em down like a bullet forced through layers | |
| of disgusting Biggie Smalls fat | |
| Still gets the job done, | |
| But only now it takes like ten gun claps to stab the fat of just one | |
| The effort of a bullet through a hero Cheesecake armor | |
| Doesn' t make him less a hero, more a metaphor for life, | |
| My effort works in full clips | |
| Only hero is a farmer | |
| Cause he helps me fatten up and that' s my bullet into strife | |
| I knew this guy, hell bent on getting over | |
| I said help me paint this Fence, shit | |
| " Oh my god it' s fun!" | |
| But it wasn' t... I called him Huckleberry Fuckup | |
| Cause he pulled that crap like every day and nothing ever got done | |
| The frustrated, crumble under the weight of their own | |
| bungling hate of their own brain | |
| Effort' s like a gunshot a split second of manmade perfection | |
| Dial up speed and direction | |
| So.. | |
| Chorus | |
| Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
| Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
| Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
| Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
| Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
| Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
| Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
| Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
| Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme guns | |
| Bridge | |
| I can' t deny it, I' m a straight rider | |
| You don' t wanna fuck with DoomTree | |
| Verse 2 | |
| I' ve got ambitions of a writer | |
| Like another famed victim of effort | |
| Less effort though | |
| Well... I guess he took it and smiled | |
| Five shots couldn' t stop the knowledge dropper | |
| Turned Posthumous tip jar and clone donor | |
| But fifteen could | |
| maybe it was 14 | |
| Give me the strength to pierce, flesh | |
| The highest caliber of focus that' ll give me death | |
| The hammer pin, powder push | |
| A simple try' ll do, I won' t lie to you | |
| I' m simply trying to let that blood gush | |
| I' m simply trying to slip past mediocrity' s lips | |
| Just wanna kill that bitch from the inside, | |
| The thorny Doom branch on the side of every blank loaded | |
| Armchair thinker, and backseat liver | |
| Your Parents mock people like Anne Rice | |
| You parody passion | |
| My bullet will will not think twice before before bashing | |
| I won' t | |
| thank god i put effort into every little fucking thing i do | |
| So.. | |
| Chorus | |
| Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
| Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
| Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
| Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
| Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
| Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
| Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
| Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
| Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Uh Uh Uh | |
| Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
| Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
| Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
| Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
| Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
| Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
| Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
| Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
| Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme g' gimme gimme gimme guns | |
| Bang | |
| Pow | |
| stop the beat |
| zuò qǔ : Turbo Nemesis | |
| Well, some of you might be sayin' like they tryin' not to like us | |
| But we, we want you to know we good | |
| I am a gun | |
| Huh | |
| Okay frustration takes a fast cat | |
| And slows ' em down like a bullet forced through layers | |
| of disgusting Biggie Smalls fat | |
| Still gets the job done, | |
| But only now it takes like ten gun claps to stab the fat of just one | |
| The effort of a bullet through a hero Cheesecake armor | |
| Doesn' t make him less a hero, more a metaphor for life, | |
| My effort works in full clips | |
| Only hero is a farmer | |
| Cause he helps me fatten up and that' s my bullet into strife | |
| I knew this guy, hell bent on getting over | |
| I said help me paint this Fence, shit | |
| " Oh my god it' s fun!" | |
| But it wasn' t... I called him Huckleberry Fuckup | |
| Cause he pulled that crap like every day and nothing ever got done | |
| The frustrated, crumble under the weight of their own | |
| bungling hate of their own brain | |
| Effort' s like a gunshot a split second of manmade perfection | |
| Dial up speed and direction | |
| So.. | |
| Chorus | |
| Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
| Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
| Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
| Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
| Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
| Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
| Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
| Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
| Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme guns | |
| Bridge | |
| I can' t deny it, I' m a straight rider | |
| You don' t wanna fuck with DoomTree | |
| Verse 2 | |
| I' ve got ambitions of a writer | |
| Like another famed victim of effort | |
| Less effort though | |
| Well... I guess he took it and smiled | |
| Five shots couldn' t stop the knowledge dropper | |
| Turned Posthumous tip jar and clone donor | |
| But fifteen could | |
| maybe it was 14 | |
| Give me the strength to pierce, flesh | |
| The highest caliber of focus that' ll give me death | |
| The hammer pin, powder push | |
| A simple try' ll do, I won' t lie to you | |
| I' m simply trying to let that blood gush | |
| I' m simply trying to slip past mediocrity' s lips | |
| Just wanna kill that bitch from the inside, | |
| The thorny Doom branch on the side of every blank loaded | |
| Armchair thinker, and backseat liver | |
| Your Parents mock people like Anne Rice | |
| You parody passion | |
| My bullet will will not think twice before before bashing | |
| I won' t | |
| thank god i put effort into every little fucking thing i do | |
| So.. | |
| Chorus | |
| Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
| Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
| Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
| Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
| Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
| Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
| Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
| Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
| Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Uh Uh Uh | |
| Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun | |
| Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots | |
| Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots | |
| Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots | |
| Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news | |
| Cut the wet words, give me effort | |
| Let me give a little cause to the bickering | |
| Then stop stop the start start for flickering | |
| Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots | |
| Kill the weak plots, gimme gimme g' gimme gimme gimme guns | |
| Bang | |
| Pow | |
| stop the beat |