Pistol Grip Lyrics - Light Poles And Pine Trees - Field Mob

Nowadays girls and boys wanna lick me 

Her put her tongue on me, him pull his gun on me 

I won't let 'em get me I stay strapped 

In case I gotta stick her and he try to stick me 

So I'm packin' my magnums, in case I gotta blast one 

The only time I'm leakin' out my head is when I'm sweatin' 

You ain't gon' have me layin' dead in my Chevy 

I work hard for my rings, chains and bracelet 

He left and came to take it, brains eroded 

He bled red stains in pavement 

His crane split slain he lay stiff, think about it 

Before you make that move this be ya warning 

It's ready to be squeezed like an orange 

Bullets penetrate ya, bleed like menstruation 

I'ma empty out, more shells than in Run D.M.C.'s closet 

I got my pistol grip on the side of me 

And ain't no bitch gon' catch me slippin' 'cause it ride wit me 

I got my heater in my lap, I'm squeezin' on my strap 

Try me you'll bleed, I let it rip, empty the clip 

Run up you'll die in the streets 

I got my pistol grip on the side of me 

And ain't no bitch gon' catch me slippin' 'cause it ride wit me 

I got my heater in my lap, I'm squeezin' on my strap 

Try me you'll bleed, I let it rip empty the clip 

Run up you'll die in the streets 

Shawn Jay known to rip a instrumental 

You can bleed like I broke pen for dissen' with a pencil 

Starvin' artist I paint a picture 

Way I touch O's everyday for me like a game of Twister 

My achievement say I'm a legend 

Ghetto bitches be wishin' they could spend a day in my presence 

I'm stackin' plenty dough, I stay on cloud nine 

Like 2Pac in 'I Ain't Mad At Cha' video 

Now start with me I'ma target ya click 

The scope, I got ain't the type you gargle and spit 

It sit on top of the fifth small semi's and 4-4s 

Heat'll leave a enemy so cold 

Thirty feet away with one eye squinted 

You look like the man on the fuckin' Public Enemy logo 

First nigga start shit 

Watch the tech spray a flame like a airbrush artist 

I got my pistol grip on the side of me 

And ain't no bitch gon' catch me slippin' 'cause it ride wit me 

I got my heater in my lap I'm squeezin' on my strap 

Try me you'll bleed, I let it rip empty the clip 

Run up you'll die in the streets 

Shit, I'll die for mine you ain't gon' take it wit ease 

You better go Jack Monterey for his cheese 

You run up on me in my 745 beamer 

You catch 7 shots from my 45 heater 

In my lap is where the heat's kept 

I ride strapped and I ain't talkin' about no seat belts 

When I pull shoot and blast I'm aimin' at cha head 

To make sure you dead you better wear a bulletproof mask 

It's no secret I keep the Nina, it spit soul food like sneaker cleaner 

I sell those pies, I tell no lies 

Cookies same size as Tickle-Me-Elmo's eyes 

You don't know no dirt, I'll put a hole through the head 

Of the horse of ya polo shirt like a nerd in a science fair 

Hang around projects, buck, when I stop by 

I got my pistol grip on the side of me 

And ain't no bitch gon' catch me slippin' 'cause it ride wit me 

I got my heater in my lap I'm squeezin' on my strap 

Try me you'll bleed, I let it rip empty the clip 

Run up you'll die in the streets 

I got my, pistol grip on the side of me 

And ain't no bitch gon catch me slippin' 'cause it ride wit me 

I got my heater in my lap I'm squeezin' on my strap 

Try me you'll bleed, I let it rip empty the clip 

Run up you'll die in the streets