Luyện nghe bài hát Pistol Pistol

Yeah, welcome to (Detroit, nigga!)
The reason why rappers gotta pistols (Why is that?)

Slick criminal wit, the shit I spit
Like a came back that just missed and hit you
I say the type of shit parents slit their to
Need an anthem to amp you, this the shit to
Too many enemies on my to sift through
Nobody got my back in this but this do
Sorry officer I care how pissed it get you
But I don't go nowhere my pistol pistol

Nigga, we violently active, so fuck us
See I'm backwards, I slap niggas and bitches
for asking, they musta been wanting to meet the Lord
When my parents talked to me, they got mugged and ignored
They were snooping through my closet, seen drugs on the
Shells from the 44 scattered over porch
pistols in your windows with intentions to destroy you
Tryna break your neck to Bitch, I'll do it for you
me laughing at your funeral when they lower you
You and your ho, you gots to go, bitches slow and horrible
no tomorrow for any nigga we'll shower you
We young strapped and powerful and I gotta lie to you

Stepped in the door, the 44
Blazing at po-po, and lay low
They call my tongue ya-yo, but I spit
I lit five inside a fucking
The clip slider, to blast a Mag
You a fag, you being ass to ass
a gun by the nose with the butt to gat-spank ya
Never say that I'm a (Now that's gangsta)
Y'all niggas like Jigga but act like Pac
Yo my trigger got the flu and this gat might
It ain't nothing to tell, empty for the witness
I'm the hot that's gon' put hell outta business
It won't be the same since we touching the
the hardest nigga in your crew, tuck in his chain
Y'all think shit's a game and I'm bluffing for fame?
I'll squeeze off this tec until remains

The only time that I'm at peace is I'm close to one
Cause I don't what's waiting for me when my vocals are done
Tote the gun, it's my way of and it works
These cowardly niggas'll put your life in the dirt
Cause it was how they left my dog, he was priceless
Alone in the streets, bleeding, staring, laying
That's why I'm heated, you never know who creeping
Waking you up with while you lie sleeping
I'd rather pack the heat and not it
Rather than need one and not it, I married this Glock-matic

You the sound when I'm spinning round
Spitting these from four pounds
While the crowd screaming as loud
From they mouths as they possibly
Nothing is parallel to making you
Aerial somersault ferris wheels to a pair of shells
carry the nine where I go
Bullets and hit you while I'm shooting at 5-0
Some semi-automatic for static's the
Spitting like *Columbine kids* from

This turn a softy to a hard rock
make Jehovah's Witnesses, think before they knock (Sorry, sorry!)
It'll make your grandmother come outta her
It'll make Bizkit, get rid of Fred Durst
It'll make Holyfield fighting
It'll Mase say fuck church and go back to writing
It'll make Shyne say he like Biggie Smalls
It'll make R. Kelly, give to Aaron Hall
It'll make Christopher start walking
It'll a dog with no voice, suddenly start barking
make a nun turn to a filthy slut
It'll make the pitbull, turn to a fucking mutt
make a Muslim dye his hair blonde
It'll make a redneck start to the Holy Qu'ran (Need Jesus!)
make Ike stop beating Tina
It'll make Slim fall back in love with Christina