Sick and tired of the 400 years, gotta get "doe" like deers But ain't goin' out like a (?) named Bambi The devil don't know who the man be Come and check it out, I got the fat artillery Harriet Tubman's spirit instilled in me Fuck Bill Clinton and Hillary Buck shots (mug shots) Tryin' to separate me and my mister But see I'm a soldier, and I got a sister Ready to put in work, jerk Get busy in pants or skirt Give me a friend and a loaded MAC-10 And all I need is a few good men You better run to the pad and call 911, hon, the girl's got a gun
("Don't try to step to me, cause I ain't the one") ("?")
All y'all lookin', I know it seems strange To see a black girl at the range Lettin' a (buck buck) with the buck, kick Lookin' for a hit for a trick Now I'm wanted in every state Cause I'm a packer, rapper, jacker, ready for the cracker But he don't want none, he can't get none Oh, shit, I think I hit one Now they're on the run, cause I don't fear Flip the scrip' and hit like Pam Grier And you can try to find me K I'm wicked, (?), and stomp into the ninety tre It's all about the IBWC And I'ma have to trouble you, G You better run to the pad and call 911, hon, the girl's got a gun
("Wa da da dang, wa da da da dang") My 9 goes bang, punk can you hang? If you can't, then back up, back up QE turn the track up Ratta-tat-tat, the clip is inserted further More, I murder more Fools, act like you didn't know, if you did know Now you're in the mix, six feet below where the grass grow So, I changed, I got the jackal Grabbin' on artillery I just can't let go So, when you see me in your neighborhood Dial 911, the girl's got a gunTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
