Pistolvania 2 - Vinnie Paz, Malik B., Jakk Frost

T is for terrible, H is for Hell

U is for ugly, and G is for jail

'Cause a thug can’t spell

T is for terrible, H is for Hell

U is for ugly, and G is for jail

T is for terrible, H is for Hell

U is for ugly, and G is for jail

I done seen this gun-play change men

Shootouts turn gangstas into strange men

The AK drum rearrange men

Kurt Russell with a bounty, I’m the Hang Man

I hang men from west Philly to west Baltimore

To west coast, to west Africa

It’s an A.O.T.P.

BGC massacre

They call me The Flash 'cause I throw this hot shit so fast at ya

Red beams and dead dreams is all we know here

Fifty shot clips and weed is all we grow here

I’m from Philly dawg, you don’t want to go there

Even the cops get hit with the .44 here

Really dawg, it’s Pistolvania part two

My gun’ll do surgery on your brain and your heart too

Plenty casualties when my crew blast niggas

A Darth Vader with a beard to you Luke ass niggas

Everybody got a gun, everybody want to ride

When it’s all said and done, don’t nobody want to die

Talking tough in the streets, everybody wonder why

At the funeral, everybody want to cry

Cry motherfucker, cry motherfucker, cry

Die motherfucker, die motherfucker, die

It’s Pistolvania part two

It’s Pistolvania part two

Check me out

Yeah, homicide rate, nigga, I survive fate

I’m in live shape, pussy, you provide hate

You wearing a wire taped, my cap likes to jivate

They find the niggas all thrown through the fire escape

When I walk up, bodies all chalked up

On the asphalt in the dark when I spark up

I got a chemical remedy full of energy

Head shots mentally, show 'em my whole identity

A militant, my home is Pistolvania

Niggas act demonic, my brain is full of mania

I got arrangements to put you on the pavement

Check your brain waves and cause mental enslavement

You’re not ready, I pop heavy, my shot steady

You want to talk about gas?

Nigga, I got Getty

You’re not ready to get close to an overdose

A militant coming through with Jehovah clothes

Everybody got a gun, everybody want to ride

When it’s all said and done, don’t nobody want to die

Talking tough in the streets, everybody wonder why

At the funeral, everybody want to cry

Cry motherfucker, cry motherfucker, cry

Die motherfucker, die motherfucker, die

It’s Pistolvania part two

It’s Pistolvania part two

Yeah, listen

I send 'em to God, let him sort 'em out, who gon' burn up?

Caught a couple homis, but the bodies never turned up

I don’t say shit like, «On fleek» or «Turnt up»

Embalming on the wakata, all shermed up

The new Porsche is a lot faster

The blue Avatar face on the Yacht-Master

Son got splashed down to bottom, all master

Got caught slipping on white like Alabasta

It’s dark and it’s hot, it’s about to be cold

And these young boys style is about to be old

Young boy act Joe, so he have to be told

Or have his body dump trucked up academy road

Really, fuck rap, I’m about to pull the llama out

Fuck the llama, I’mma have to pull the fucking chopper out

Air your fucking whole block including your mama out

I’m the one to call if you need to bring the drama out

Murder

Everybody got a gun, everybody want to ride

When it’s all said and done, don’t nobody want to die

Talking tough in the streets, everybody wonder why

At the funeral, everybody want to cry

Cry motherfucker, cry motherfucker, cry

Die motherfucker, die motherfucker, die

It’s Pistolvania part two

It’s Pistolvania part two