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Yeah, the Young Gunners Generation Next, the next generation Big Face, Bola Holla at cha boooys Okay, C and Neef Niggaz know what it is State, State Prop Chain Gang, Sigel We got jeopardy nigga [Verse 1: Young Chris] Radios don't give a nigga airplay Knowing them they gots to hear Jay It's our turn time to attack the game, Buck no fallin back again These niggaz better respect our game, or the tec I aim Don't be scared, be aware of the rap Bron James Even when I couldn't back my game I had a lot of women workin like Maxwell sing Hung around a lot of bad karma My brother did it so for me it sort of bagged drama It's just the business, had to lace up my boot Switch up my hoopties, damn I can't stand it when a nigga a groupie Lookin at me like his nigga'll shoot me When they should be tryna get at a cutie I got 50 to do em, kill em all cause them niggaz'll sue me And we give a fuck about them, tell them 50'll pursue them Letras de cancionesAll my niggaz bust, witnessed a whole lot of death in our young ages Y'all see the stress in our young faces Y'all don't understand me inside, everytime I see his family I cry So everytime I pump my hand up to God Think of him all night with a tight grip on my heater And I pray that he all right hoping I meet em [Hook] We pouring liquor on the curb for our niggaz up above When it crash through the cement that's our way of showing love State Prop, you know us, if not you heard of us Tracks murdered, I'm far from raps time we surviving it We still'll dress up for them clubs or grip up on them snubs Find out where them niggaz rest, straight hit them niggaz up State Prop, you know us, if not you heard of us Tracks murdered, I'm far from raps time we surviving it This summer's our summer, Neef Buck come release some of that hunger [Verse 2: Neef Buck] What's the waiting for, nigga we ready What's them shanks for, nigga we heavy Play the Range boy, aiming steady Make his brains look like spaghetti Shotgun playa I'm the black Jim Kelly Plus I heard they be out on the daily Have his brain hanging out of his skelly Banging out on the daily They sick, that is we got guns that crack ribs And we comin, you scared, you don't know what this is It's more heat, homie we in the mix You yappin yo lips, we stackin these chips Kidnappin yo bitch, we got it Hustle, don't knock it Yours ain't sellin too much on the strip that's yo problem I'll show you how to grind from the bottom The beef jump, semiautomatic or revolve em It's Neef Buck, niggaz always said I was a problem The heat tucked, gotta let it out if it's a problem Show you how to do this thing, straight through the lane Get straight to the change, State Prop Chain Gang And I'm ridin, they frontin, they dyin I'm done Slugs out the eagle, it ain't bout nothin [Hook] [Verse 3: Beanie Sigel] I got you scrap, commit suicide All y'all need to kill yourself, go head scrap all you'll do is die Cause fuckin with Mac is do or die You know me scrap, and that cat tell the truest lies Circle your block in the bluest five How I pop two a dime Oozie pop out, two a time Yeah, that's usually how I do it ma Pull the Ford Concord in line Get hype right before I do a crime Talk to him calm, put the tool to his spine Show em what the whippings and the pills'll do Little dress, little wig, little heels'll do Big tech, little sig tinted wheels'll do Scrap check I turn a mil to a billion too Get the point Amil Muthafucka you can't point when I hit you, bitch I'll kill you too By the way send the tellers through Sharp crooks and we eating, get cooks and the dealers through Cause we ridin (they frontin) They dyin, we dumpin Young Gunners, Sigel that ain't bout nothin nigga [Hook] From Letras Mania