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(feat. Ed O.G., Reks) [Reks] Now Folks listen here, R-E-K-S. Yo, we done trekked from the east coast. Get up from my dawg in San Francisco on this Gunz Still Hot Remix. Rasco, Ed O.G., livin' legends in the game, barkin' wit' one of the young dawgs. We about to set it like this, c'mon. [Ed O.G.] If the suns still hot, then my guns still hot You number one wit a bullet, wit just one shot ass-backwards, I'm a dog spelled backwards Who puff backwards wit tan timbs and black hoods You gangsta, but testifying for immunity Write your eulogy, time to close your window of opportunity Ya career is over for major damages Cheap labels, whack records, weak managers Amateurs, pros get paid a fee Niggas love the game so much they play for free Talk shit behind my back but won't say it to me Rasco and Reks, now which asshole is next Ed O.G. is Boston bound You lost ya skills and lost ya sound, now they at the lost and found We so hot we take cold shower Letras de cancionesget it on for hours, compare your shit to ours...c'mon [Hook x2: Rasco] Ayo, we spit it, you cats better get wit it Nuttin' but cash man, we stay fresh-fitted If niggas is layed out then Rasco did it Find me at the spot wit the guns still hot [Reks] I spit 16 bars of the deadliest paragraphs Take the rap game, divide it by one, and then shatter half Use the other half for target practice Every rap cat wit a pad and pen or iron horses turn corks to ashes Rasco sent to spit, my gun hot wit the clip Pistol [???], make ya heart pump, jump and then skip R E K S wit adrenaline scripts Keep it rockin' like the pendulum twitch, past millennium tick Continuous wit, the coast to coast flows to ya throat, flows you can quote Alls toe to toe, ready for war, my south paw will pop ya confetti jaw This ya first taste of Reks dawg, you'll get many more Rollin' wit two vets, and you bet we armed I donât do threats, when I bark wit the dawgs I bring it on You whack cats ya lifelines up so beg Regis If you could make just one more call to the Lord Jesus [Hook x2] [Rasco] My six-shooter can shoot from all ways, hotter than the sun For some we get dumb, you know where we from C-A-B-A-Y the area Ras' lock it down like a pitbull terrier My Beantown recruits, rockin' black suits For all of these whack groups, cause nigga we bout loot You want proof? I speaks nuttin' but truth 255 feet and get shot off the roof I be the hitman for grands Nuttin less than the franks and grands in the hand, reppin' for San Fran My plan is this, expand the list Travel the globe and take the world off hold Spit cold, my ice is froze quite nice For that price I'm ready to pull that heist We still precise, pin-point ya joint Remove the groove, blown outta ya shoes I can never lose, I bruise tracks for stacks of them green backs, have me a drink and lean back and think of all them times I blew those spots Cover ya knot because the guns still hot [Hook x2] From Letras Mania