Bob Vylan

GYAG (Get Yourself A Gun)
Open flames around bended spoons The game is rigged, but we'll mend it soon Texture like sun, don't mention moon 'Cause the night time is full up of plenty goons Dark nights seem to put me at ease I don't cross the street, don't jump and flee Takes more than the heat to discomfort me I'm in the kitchen cooking so comfortably Cold town, blocks burning up Stressed out 'cause man don't earn enough Police turned thieves and burglars Tryna steal our lives and murder us, hoo Foods hot, careful serving up Hood, youths and peds start to circle up Done all the talk, man have had heard enough I bet you don't hear shit when the burner busts It's cold out here And the games being played ain't fun Landlord just raised your rent Better get yourself a It's cold out here And the games being played ain't fun Landlord just raised your rent Better get yourself a gun It's cold out here Letras de cancionesAnd the games being played ain't fun Landlord just raised your rent Better get yourself a gun (Tedious, he's arrogant, he's inconsiderate) (And basically people think there's something wrong with the man) Neighbours on my block witnessing me get it cracking Wasn't talking about my looks when they said that boy is strapping Another handsome villain with the devil in his ear But the hell wasn't mine by design, I it see clear now Plays in a game where the ref isn't fair and some are moving with the stick like they're vision impaired, yeah Scouser hit my phone tryna sell me a shooter Had a butchers, leave it I'm looking for a hoover Tryna clean the whole street when it airs I'm good on that one He found protection for some girls One white, one black one I dipped, I ain't down with that shit Don't know the ins and outs, I was in and out I ain't tryna be in the house I was playing with fire, I was playing with life Now I find this ain't made for the weak My advice, I advise, whether avoiding robberies or bailiffs You might survive if you stay inside It's cold out here And the games being played ain't fun Landlord just raised your rent Better get yourself a gun It's cold out here And the games being played ain't fun Landlord just raised your rent Better get yourself a gun Brown powder filled the ends like a coffee pot Yeah, I had a top twenty album in the charts But I stayed stealing loo roll out the bathroom at the coffee shop Rob a place blind with the same speed Rossi got License for what? I know the roads like a black cab Black man come up screw faced They that mad, hate my journey Want me hanging up in Tyburn tree 'Cause I wipe my back side with that flag Spit in your mouth then I spit on the crown, spit on your mic NME getting sick of me now Before any these interviews will misquote me My enemies had dreams that they put me down On the block so hot, serve the rock up wearing oven gloves Gripping on the burner man, then rock up wearing other gloves No prints on it, send a letter to the one above Doves might cry, but it's nothing like your mother does From Letras Mania