Gun Talk: accordi di
Willie D
Willie D

N/A
Tonalità: F major
Intro 1
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Verse 1
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19 motherfuckin' 99,
Willie
D,
Retreat'll get hit
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I'm loved by a few, hated by many
But guess what, I don't give a shit
Bucket in the bucket,
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I'm ready for the drama
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Finna hit this motherfucker up like
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Texas in the sum mer
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Drama comin' like a cold blue
Got your body shakin' like jelly
Leave these smelly,
but really wounds to the belly
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My adversaries won't be dead,
my survival's crucial
I see plans to end your
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motherfuckin' future
If you're neutral,
stay the hell away from me, bitch
This, ride niggas,
ain't never throwin' a piece, shit
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Your mom did her best,
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but I guess her best wasn't good enough
Cuz I stopped knockin' bitches out
when my nuts got bigger
Bought me a gun and shot my first nigga,
trigger
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Happy law, fuck my cock, fuckin' balls
I have the parameters,
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cuttin' off your fuckin' walls
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They put my motherfuckin'
homie in the slam of black
For a straight shooter and
a gram of crack
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Damn these tracks make me
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wanna eat it up and shit it
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I fuck names when I hear the clock
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I'm havin' dreams of blooded pictures
My adversary makin' wishes
But I ain't sparin' them bitches
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I let my gun talk, let it talk, nigga
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Let it, let it, let it, let it
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I let my gun talk, let it talk, nigga
Let it, let it, let it, let it
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I let my gun flame, let it talk to you
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Shut your motherfuckin' mouth
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and put your hands to the roof
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I promise I won't shoot,
give me all the loot
Act cute, and I got a shot for all of you
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C
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Pull up my gun, same gun,
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same talk to you
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Shut your motherfuckin' mouth
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and put your hands to the roof
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I promise I won't shoot,
give me all the loot
Act cute, and I got a shot for all of you
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I'm at the end of my rope,
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I can't pretend I see hope
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The sentence of king and queen,
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we can't even escape
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Yo, no need for escape, yo,
we our own worst enemy
Constantly fuckin' ourselves
with no remedy
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Let me tell it, we ain't ready for war
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We ain't ready for what they got in store
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From all shores,
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ghetto boys and outlaws
Frontline soldiers,
in the midst of battle
Jumpin' on them war time rotors
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Ain't no stick when the flame spit, aim to hit
Y 'all can't take shit, we came to trip
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Blame your bitch for suckin'
on my homeboy's dick
Said she got it from you, huh?
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For ridin' on my clique, that's what you get
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Never write a check with your mouth,
that's your ass
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Can't cash, I'll blast your ass
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And I ain't got a flasher, nigga
Willie
D and
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Pop, y 'all, fuck around,
smoke your asses, nigga
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We got this motherfucker
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head on lock
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Until we see results, I don't care,
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we won't stop
Hot shots, retarded,
we ain't martyrs, we riders
Holla if ya heads, man,
I love it, when they fast
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Oh yes, them niggas with
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them triggers to speak on it
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Six -figure killers,
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whatever you own, we want it
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Willie
D want it, and sucker, I do too
Now what the fuck is you gonna do
When pistols still talking to
Jews?
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Speaking dope, don't think of coke,
think of me
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While you in jeans, an ode to the
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BLE
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Eat up
T's like
BLT's
Nigga please, you a water gun soldier
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In blue fatigues, shoot the freeze
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Eternally you journey with me, losing
DT's
Right in the corner of
New
Street
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You choose to feed, I choose to win
You lose again, thought it ain't my friend
I knew it was meant to
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What would my gun say if
I could talk to you?
Shut your motherfuckin' mouth
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and put your hands to the roof
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I promise I won't shoot,
give me all the loot
Act cute, and I got a shot for all of you
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Gb
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What would my gun say if
I could talk to you?
Shut your motherfuckin' mouth and
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put your hands to the roof
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I promise I won't shoot, give me all the loot, act cute,
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and I got a shot for all of you, I'm warnin' you
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My own
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Glock, pistol whipped a nigga in the head,
cause he said, I wouldn't buy the
M4
Red
My
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Tip -9 jammin' stutter when he get out of hold,
so I filed out a pen, made a fully auto
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Kept talkin' shit, seein' haters come out and play,
tellin' me he home sick, wanna go back to the bay
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So we can ride around the hood, and get in
Mrs.
Glock, she was spittin'
Black
Cat as a
Jew when we was on the block
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My two homies,
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Smith and
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Wesson, wanna fuck me to rocks
Say they gon' rape that bitch if
she don't let her vote talks
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My booty changes on clips for me
Got my motherfuckin' mind
playin' tricks on me
It's sick, homie,
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speakin' a worldwide language
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Gun talk, everybody listen
Kissin' and rubbin' my
pistol like a pretty bitch
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We goin' on a mission,
killin' niggas that's talkin' shit
And no, we ain't missin',
we aimin' straight
And dippin'
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Barcellini slash killer slash real nigga
Fuck
Tommy
Hilfiger, my
Tommy
Hill niggas
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Got me smokin' on green leaves,
thuggin' into the red run
No enemies mobbin' into
my death zone
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What my gun say if I could talk to you?
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Shut your motherfuckin' mouth
and put your hands to the roof
Fm
Fm
I promise I won't shoot,
give me all the loot
Act cute, and I got a shot for all of you
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Gb
Db
Db
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Gb
What would my gun say if
I could talk to you?
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Gbm
Shut your motherfuckin' mouth
and put your hands to the roof
Fm
Fm
I promise I won't shoot,
give me all the loot
Act cute, and I got a shot for all of you
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Gb
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What would my gun say if
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I could talk to you?
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Shut your motherfuckin' mouth
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and put your hands to the roof
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I promise I won't shoot, give me all the loot,
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C
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act cute, and I got a shot for all of you
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Move up my gun 's aim,
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gotta f***ing talk to you
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Shut your motherf***ing mouth
and put your hands to the roof
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I promise I won't shoot, give me all the loot,
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act cute, and I got a shot for all of you
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I'm warning you
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I'm warning you
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I'm warning you
I'm warning you
I'm warning you
That's what I'm saying.
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Just dig in.
If they start squawking,
I'll take care of it.
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You know what I'm saying?
Outro 1
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