Gunz - Sean Price, Jus Allah, Doujah Raze

Yeah… Peace to the god, Jus Allah

Doujah Raze, what up?

Snowgoons (Peace)

Boot Camp… what up?

German Lugers… aiyyo…

The god send you back to the Earth from which you came

Back smack Earth, wind, fire and rain

Elemental, the god get busy to instrumentals

Yeah you get busy, but that’s all in your mental

I sent you a note sayin', «Son, don’t rhyme»

You ain’t listen, in turn he got burnt with the nine

Here’s a gun, there’s a gun, just… everywhere's a gun

I guess everybody pussy, scared to shoot a fair one

I will Larry Holmes your dome, Shane Mosley your homey

Felix Trinidad your dad, duke you don’t know me

Riddick Bowe my ho, punch the bitch in the face

Run up on her like «Anna Mae, eat this cake.»

Eat this eight, slugs inside of your mug

Got the Eagle from Illegal plus I’m puffin' on drugs

I rap for dough, no dough, no rap

Freebies get VD, yo ass get «clap,» P!

Put a fucking bullet in your lip, swallow this

Put a fucking bullet in your lip, swallow this

Are your parents home?

You’re not old enough to be left alone

May I come in?

I have to use the telephone

So, what’s to do 'round here for fun?

I know, show me where dad keeps the guns

Look inside the barrel, I think it’s not loaded

Pull the trigger back, here, hold it

Oops, my bad, you’re fuckin' dead now, look what you did

A little soul, arose up out the little kid

Are you a bad ghost or a good ghost?

Man I’m bored, I gotta go now, thanks, you’ve been a good host

Now time to light the good smoke

Aww shit, I left the bag of trees in my other cloak

I’m tryin' to get blazed, where the fuck is Sean P and Doujah Raze?

Each second I’m sober is like days

I need the bright green haze inside my head

So I can laugh about your silly little child that’s dead

Put a fucking bullet in your lip, swallow this

Put a fucking bullet in your lip, swallow this

Take a toke, this perfect

When I fill my lungs with the smoke and start workin'

Leave the mic hurtin', murkin' on you mercenaries

You ain’t got no rhymes duke, searchin' through the dictionary, keep my diction

scary

Peep the visionary as I creep precision carry through the deep

I throw shade on your sleep, yeah

Come one, come all, it’s the bum rush

You can find your face on the floor with your lung dust

The fuck?

These mic skills are no frills

And I don’t need the hype of the blow and no pills

And I can take a flight 'cross the ocean, no bills

And I can keep my height through the low with no ills

And I can build overseas with the boom

Sean P., Doujah Raze, Jus Allah in the room, yeah

Smokin' boom, gettin' regular

Tryin' to get some food for the show, madness, et cetera, yeah

Snowgoons… DJ Illegal

Det… We up in Germany

Deutschland, muthafuckas