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(feat. Paul Cain) [Paul Cain:] Desert storm niggaz... I'm the first line of defense... And I'm a show 'em what that means... I know these niggas hoped I wouldn't make it fuck you The hatred only made me wanna cake it fuck you Whenever I see you nigga I'm a buck you And put a hole in ya chest that's big enough to drive a truck through I'll bring the drama back where you live Splatter ya wig, reload and then point the mac at ya kids So what I signed for some records I still keep guns on me, but the difference now it's only deserts If I talk it's gon be reckless I'm ready to die So when I apply pressure niggas gon respect it Tote guns to rob niggas, I tote 'em to use And leave enemies and friends alike broken and bruised They ain't crazy they just broke and confused Cross me and there'll be talks of how the found a man smoked on the news I'm a career crook... they used a mugshot For my graduation picture and my junior high school yearbook Paul Cain never appear shook Yea I might talk to my enemies but never police You wanna converse it better be brief You ain't gotta say much show me the money and the cheddar a speak Letras de cancionesIf it ain't involvin bread I ain't with it I don't need D's on me I'm already dodgin feds When the shots from the revolver spread Duck that don't discriminate leave CEO's and artists dead Make slugs a part his head Vanish then pop up in the SL double nickel scarlet red Fuck you I'm tryna get my cash right All my niggas flip birds and blast pipes addicted to the fast life Live everyday like my last night OD'n on X when I got signed like Len Bias on draft night, nigga [Fabolous:] I see ya faggot ass schemin fuck you Bitch you don't wanna swallow semen fuck you I know you hate the way I'm street dreamin fuck you That's why I'm ridin clappin with the .40 cal screamin fuck you When I pulled the five out I kinda expected for the backstabbers to be standin behind me with they knives out Then the range with the fins drove in I wasn't shocked to see my foes dressed in friends clothin, but I still pull through the Sta With handguns as big as the one Robocop pulled from his thigh You probly heard about the bullets I buy And how it look like I'm throwin batteries when the bullets shoot by So what you wear a vest, why would I care If I aimed for ya chest that be a good idea, nigga It's nothin to clap ya But I'm more worried bout the groupie cops who wanna put they cuffs on a rapper That's why I'm limpin off with a freak, and a lawyer Who woulda got OJ Simpson off in a week I can show you how to blow up on ya own In the Benz that hit a buck, and make the doors go up on they own With a stashbox compartment for A handgun that make holes the size of peepholes on apartment doors My closet look like department stores And you wonder why your girl's comin home with a cigar scent for Cause I just dumped her like dutch master guts You won't believe how much ass I touch Who else struts past the sluts In a chain with so much ash and cuts that it hangs much past the nuts That's why I get followed by broads With deeper throats than the people at the circus that be swallowin swords Your hopin that the don fall off But my money long enough to keep shootin ya bank until ya arms fall off I'm eatin, and I ain't have to use someone's utensils But when you're clean as me you know that every bum is against you But please don't let someone convince you To test the kid and get hit with slugs as long as a number two pencil, fucker I see ya faggot ass schemin fuck you Bitch you don't wanna swallow semen fuck you I know you hate the way I'm street dreamin fuck you That's why I'm ridin clappin with the .40 cal screamin fuck you From Letras Mania