Gun Rule 歌词
| 歌曲 | Gun Rule |
| 歌手 | LA the Darkman |
| 专辑 | Heist of the Century |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| Yo, yo, yo | |
| Once, once again | |
| Know what i'm saying? | |
| Chorus： | |
| Darkman stay on the street with a tool | |
| For these devil worshippers wit' gats and these ignorant fools | |
| Find yourself in the hustle rocking free mint shoes | |
| Middle week, michigan brand rap and gun rule | |
| Verse 1: | |
| Me and my man contemplating on these future operations | |
| For night clubs two four shit packed like cases | |
| I'm nineteen paid young can only get better | |
| Got cheese in the war trying to be enormous cheddar | |
| Fuck a fugees sweater stay wu-wear fly polo | |
| Pepe jeans new boots kid labelled in solo | |
| Rolled my dolo, killed from the east | |
| Me and reef left them twenty hour stole four bricks 100 g's | |
| Twenty-five a piece straight in they mind that's what it's like | |
| Peace to my man ted who got hit on new jersey's turnpike | |
| I send a kite, wit a hundred in your money order | |
| Hol' it down in your cage see you back at headquarters | |
| Everything is fine la blow spots like landmines | |
| Do the knowledge as i kick seven deadly signs | |
| >from the glock that'll make city streets boom dock | |
| The industry is calling me like cookie wit' rocks | |
| And i can't stop, cocoa plants grow in large crops | |
| Darkman east coast hip hop pad lock | |
| I'm determined to kill the mic like jews and germans | |
| Shoot a shell through your chest and leave your rib-cage burnin' | |
| While you smiling i got forty-five to life on rapper's island | |
| 49507 what you dialling, fight faster pushing up deluxe dutchmaster | |
| Enter my potential of script it might flash you, | |
| Wit impact, of a two hundred pound wind, | |
| See you chased by wu-wolves wit' no way to escape | |
| Do it from the mouth, crush bones cause this is my house | |
| And i'm prejudice give mark clayman like whiteys down south | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 2: | |
| Aiyyo, i'm hungry like 3 lions starving in a crack house | |
| Wid guns galore taking jakes to war | |
| Don't challenge the score from here to van couver | |
| I stand wit' this lex luger stashed in the couger | |
| Going through you like needles from phd's | |
| On any demon, drunken wit' 41 thieves, | |
| Crack fiends drug dealers and killers run the block | |
| 3 thieves wid' binoculars surveillance to drop | |
| A credit dot little nookie got hit wid' a shot | |
| >from a 4-4 calibre government glock in front of the shop | |
| Equivalent to gun galleries i better keep the eye locked | |
| Show and prove i'm doing gs trying to teach these 100 gs | |
| If i hol' nines i freaked it, | |
| To getting all this money is a ancient chinese secret | |
| The liquid, la can sit down like a precint | |
| I'm flippin' on you mcs for no fucking reason | |
| Chorus | |
| Yeah, you know what time it is | |
| Gun rules, you know what i'm sayin'? | |
| Yo, word up, yo, yo | |
| Verse 3: | |
| I spent about 20 gs on weed as i proceed | |
| To grow up fill my weight 100 gs | |
| Stacking loot, known to kept blood on my boots | |
| Trapacane burning blazing outta fifth hundred coupes | |
| So what you stupe?, i freezin' ya blind to sub-zero | |
| And kept all devil killers like robert shapiro | |
| The la brings action packed heat like de niro | |
| I'm ancient in this rap shit king like a pharoah | |
| A terror, terminatin' false niggas style | |
| Kill a man, his woman, mc and his child | |
| Shit is wild i hold niggas hostage like riker's isle | |
| Gotta deceptive, murderous money gettin' smile | |
| I'm the judge while you on trial supreme, killa bee | |
| A serpent la can bite the whole industry | |
| ..motherfucker | |
| Darkman stay on the streets wit' a tool | |
| For these devil worshipping gat slingers and ignorant fools | |
| Find yourself in the hustle rocking free mint shoes | |
| Middle week, michigan brand rap and gun rule | |
| Gun rule, gun rule | |
| Chorus | |
| Triple darkness | |
| Sing-sing |
| Yo, yo, yo | |
| Once, once again | |
| Know what i' m saying? | |
| Chorus: | |
| Darkman stay on the street with a tool | |
| For these devil worshippers wit' gats and these ignorant fools | |
| Find yourself in the hustle rocking free mint shoes | |
| Middle week, michigan brand rap and gun rule | |
| Verse 1: | |
| Me and my man contemplating on these future operations | |
| For night clubs two four shit packed like cases | |
| I' m nineteen paid young can only get better | |
| Got cheese in the war trying to be enormous cheddar | |
| Fuck a fugees sweater stay wuwear fly polo | |
| Pepe jeans new boots kid labelled in solo | |
| Rolled my dolo, killed from the east | |
| Me and reef left them twenty hour stole four bricks 100 g' s | |
| Twentyfive a piece straight in they mind that' s what it' s like | |
| Peace to my man ted who got hit on new jersey' s turnpike | |
| I send a kite, wit a hundred in your money order | |
| Hol' it down in your cage see you back at headquarters | |
| Everything is fine la blow spots like landmines | |
| Do the knowledge as i kick seven deadly signs | |
| from the glock that' ll make city streets boom dock | |
| The industry is calling me like cookie wit' rocks | |
| And i can' t stop, cocoa plants grow in large crops | |
| Darkman east coast hip hop pad lock | |
| I' m determined to kill the mic like jews and germans | |
| Shoot a shell through your chest and leave your ribcage burnin' | |
| While you smiling i got fortyfive to life on rapper' s island | |
| 49507 what you dialling, fight faster pushing up deluxe dutchmaster | |
| Enter my potential of script it might flash you, | |
| Wit impact, of a two hundred pound wind, | |
| See you chased by wuwolves wit' no way to escape | |
| Do it from the mouth, crush bones cause this is my house | |
| And i' m prejudice give mark clayman like whiteys down south | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 2: | |
| Aiyyo, i' m hungry like 3 lions starving in a crack house | |
| Wid guns galore taking jakes to war | |
| Don' t challenge the score from here to van couver | |
| I stand wit' this lex luger stashed in the couger | |
| Going through you like needles from phd' s | |
| On any demon, drunken wit' 41 thieves, | |
| Crack fiends drug dealers and killers run the block | |
| 3 thieves wid' binoculars surveillance to drop | |
| A credit dot little nookie got hit wid' a shot | |
| from a 44 calibre government glock in front of the shop | |
| Equivalent to gun galleries i better keep the eye locked | |
| Show and prove i' m doing gs trying to teach these 100 gs | |
| If i hol' nines i freaked it, | |
| To getting all this money is a ancient chinese secret | |
| The liquid, la can sit down like a precint | |
| I' m flippin' on you mcs for no fucking reason | |
| Chorus | |
| Yeah, you know what time it is | |
| Gun rules, you know what i' m sayin'? | |
| Yo, word up, yo, yo | |
| Verse 3: | |
| I spent about 20 gs on weed as i proceed | |
| To grow up fill my weight 100 gs | |
| Stacking loot, known to kept blood on my boots | |
| Trapacane burning blazing outta fifth hundred coupes | |
| So what you stupe?, i freezin' ya blind to subzero | |
| And kept all devil killers like robert shapiro | |
| The la brings action packed heat like de niro | |
| I' m ancient in this rap shit king like a pharoah | |
| A terror, terminatin' false niggas style | |
| Kill a man, his woman, mc and his child | |
| Shit is wild i hold niggas hostage like riker' s isle | |
| Gotta deceptive, murderous money gettin' smile | |
| I' m the judge while you on trial supreme, killa bee | |
| A serpent la can bite the whole industry | |
| .. motherfucker | |
| Darkman stay on the streets wit' a tool | |
| For these devil worshipping gat slingers and ignorant fools | |
| Find yourself in the hustle rocking free mint shoes | |
| Middle week, michigan brand rap and gun rule | |
| Gun rule, gun rule | |
| Chorus | |
| Triple darkness | |
| Singsing |
| Yo, yo, yo | |
| Once, once again | |
| Know what i' m saying? | |
| Chorus: | |
| Darkman stay on the street with a tool | |
| For these devil worshippers wit' gats and these ignorant fools | |
| Find yourself in the hustle rocking free mint shoes | |
| Middle week, michigan brand rap and gun rule | |
| Verse 1: | |
| Me and my man contemplating on these future operations | |
| For night clubs two four shit packed like cases | |
| I' m nineteen paid young can only get better | |
| Got cheese in the war trying to be enormous cheddar | |
| Fuck a fugees sweater stay wuwear fly polo | |
| Pepe jeans new boots kid labelled in solo | |
| Rolled my dolo, killed from the east | |
| Me and reef left them twenty hour stole four bricks 100 g' s | |
| Twentyfive a piece straight in they mind that' s what it' s like | |
| Peace to my man ted who got hit on new jersey' s turnpike | |
| I send a kite, wit a hundred in your money order | |
| Hol' it down in your cage see you back at headquarters | |
| Everything is fine la blow spots like landmines | |
| Do the knowledge as i kick seven deadly signs | |
| from the glock that' ll make city streets boom dock | |
| The industry is calling me like cookie wit' rocks | |
| And i can' t stop, cocoa plants grow in large crops | |
| Darkman east coast hip hop pad lock | |
| I' m determined to kill the mic like jews and germans | |
| Shoot a shell through your chest and leave your ribcage burnin' | |
| While you smiling i got fortyfive to life on rapper' s island | |
| 49507 what you dialling, fight faster pushing up deluxe dutchmaster | |
| Enter my potential of script it might flash you, | |
| Wit impact, of a two hundred pound wind, | |
| See you chased by wuwolves wit' no way to escape | |
| Do it from the mouth, crush bones cause this is my house | |
| And i' m prejudice give mark clayman like whiteys down south | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 2: | |
| Aiyyo, i' m hungry like 3 lions starving in a crack house | |
| Wid guns galore taking jakes to war | |
| Don' t challenge the score from here to van couver | |
| I stand wit' this lex luger stashed in the couger | |
| Going through you like needles from phd' s | |
| On any demon, drunken wit' 41 thieves, | |
| Crack fiends drug dealers and killers run the block | |
| 3 thieves wid' binoculars surveillance to drop | |
| A credit dot little nookie got hit wid' a shot | |
| from a 44 calibre government glock in front of the shop | |
| Equivalent to gun galleries i better keep the eye locked | |
| Show and prove i' m doing gs trying to teach these 100 gs | |
| If i hol' nines i freaked it, | |
| To getting all this money is a ancient chinese secret | |
| The liquid, la can sit down like a precint | |
| I' m flippin' on you mcs for no fucking reason | |
| Chorus | |
| Yeah, you know what time it is | |
| Gun rules, you know what i' m sayin'? | |
| Yo, word up, yo, yo | |
| Verse 3: | |
| I spent about 20 gs on weed as i proceed | |
| To grow up fill my weight 100 gs | |
| Stacking loot, known to kept blood on my boots | |
| Trapacane burning blazing outta fifth hundred coupes | |
| So what you stupe?, i freezin' ya blind to subzero | |
| And kept all devil killers like robert shapiro | |
| The la brings action packed heat like de niro | |
| I' m ancient in this rap shit king like a pharoah | |
| A terror, terminatin' false niggas style | |
| Kill a man, his woman, mc and his child | |
| Shit is wild i hold niggas hostage like riker' s isle | |
| Gotta deceptive, murderous money gettin' smile | |
| I' m the judge while you on trial supreme, killa bee | |
| A serpent la can bite the whole industry | |
| .. motherfucker | |
| Darkman stay on the streets wit' a tool | |
| For these devil worshipping gat slingers and ignorant fools | |
| Find yourself in the hustle rocking free mint shoes | |
| Middle week, michigan brand rap and gun rule | |
| Gun rule, gun rule | |
| Chorus | |
| Triple darkness | |
| Singsing |
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