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Chamillionaire

Genres: Hip-Hop

Gun Smoke Lyrics - Chamillionaire

1 and a 2 and a 3, nobody 

And a 1 and a 2 and a 3, nobody 

And a 1, 2, 3, nobody 

And a 1 and a 2 and a 3, nobody 

 

What you mean? Put ya mug on 

What you mean? Put ya mug on 

What you mean? Put ya mug on 

What you mean? Put ya mug on 

 

What you sayin'? What you mean? 

Put ya mug on 

What you sayin'? What you mean? 

Put ya mug on 

 

Gun smoke, when you hear me cockin' it back and me gun go 

Booyakaa booyakaa, leave you layin' on the floor, yeah 

Buck, buck, buck shots, come, come now what you mean? 

Pussy mad and blood clots 

 

Gun smoke, when you hear me cockin' it back and me gun go 

Booyakaa booyakaa, leave you layin' on the floor, yeah 

Buck, buck, buck shots, come, come now what you mean? 

Pussy mad and blood clots, gun smoke 

 

Poof, nobody the ghost bitch 

When it's gun smoke on the track, you know Yung Ro wrote this 

Yeah, forever Color Changin' Click homie 'cuz I ain't the type 

To switch homie some the real niggaz never pick phonies 

 

To roll with me, I ride 1 deep 

Solo with a glock next to me 

So many brothers wanna plex with me 

And I'ma show em' all who's next to see 

 

Peek-a-boo, there's gun smoke 

That's how my gun go 

Shots out to that Po-Yo 

On the block like Rasaq on the mash for dough 

 

And I'ma fly, cocky, ignorant dude 

You don't wanna see me in a ignorant mood 

Just trust me dog, sit and be cool 

And we could see how fast your pivot move 

 

Bitch, that's how I plex, execute em' 

With a red-beam, not even Neo, can't dodge what I'm shootin' 

So if you hatin', you better be expectin' some fire 

From nobody, the ghost and the Mixtape Messiah 

 

So what you sayin' slick, say it to my face 

It's on the tip of my tongue and I'm gettin' tired of it's taste 

Hey, that's not for you son, let me give you the truth son 

You not the truth son, we the realest reppin' Houston 

 

Color Changin' Click, we hot, ain't playin' mayne 

Cockin' back I'm sprayin' man, I'm, I'm just sayin' mayne 

What I gotta do to help you kids understand 

Love Ro, if not for rap for what he is as a man 

 

I'ma inspiration in the hood for niggaz that struggle 

Quit complainin', singin' sad songs get up and hustle 

Get ya money mayne, sleep later and hoes get nothin' 

No love, no patience, no cash, no love, just nothin' 

 

In they face screamin' get money nigga because I'm true to it 

And it's nothin' let you tell it, it's somethin' you new to it 

And I'ma keep makin' you bitch niggaz mad at me 

Say Koopa, fuck rap, niggaz can't fuck with my mentality 

 

Yeah, G'yeah 

Yeah, yeah, nobody, the ghost man 

Sho', uh, uh, yeah 

It's Koopa, it's that Mixtape, M-m-mixtape, M-m-mixtape Messiah 

 

Yeah, I'm the man the chief, look how I handle weak 

Ass niggaz who thinkin' that they could have my streets 

I'm wavin' my weaponary at a random sweep 

Anybody that want it, can get a can of beef 

 

Why you kissin' and tellin' my lil Spanish freak? 

She kissin' and tellin' me how the bang it sleep 

If it's someone else it's playin', it's weak 

It's a problem who gonna go handle it, it's me 

 

Real niggaz be sayin' what type of man is he 

Is the nigga a fraud? Nigga let me see 

I know the nigga a lesser man then me 

If he said to them instead of me 

 

You makin' some noise, it don't jam to me 

So the game is currently gon' depend on me 

I'm the nigga that gave you a 50 jammin' street 

If I bomb on the nigga, I'ma fantal beef 

 

Give a damn if I loose a couple fans a week 

'Cuz niggaz that's real is gonna stand with me 

Give a damn if I loose a couple friends a week 

'Cuz I ride to the end and it'll end with me 

 

And some pretend to be, friends 

But they just fakin' the feeling 

You know he fake and you fakin' it with him 

And the nigga be thinkin' his fakin' is hittin' 

 

Who the hell is makin' this niggin'? 

Feel like he ready to slander me 

Like he ain't never gon' have to be 

Dealin' with the, uh Majesty 

 

Chamillionaire yeah, I'm makin' a livin' 

You fakin' a livin' 

And I don't give a damn who's house you in 

I bring the roof down like it's weights in the ceiling 

 

Yeah, Chamillitary man 

Respect the name 

Respect the game 

Respect yeah already, get him 

Writer:

Copyright: Chamillitary Camp Music