Lyrics to Heavy Artillery
[feat. Rick Ross & Beanie Sigel]
[Intro: Rick Ross]
You know we got em
45s, machine guns, heavy artillery
We got those grenades on your ass, nigga
Boss. Black Wall Street
I'm in that bulletproof Maybach nigga (Teflon Don)
[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
Nigga talking like a G but walking like a broad
I pull up at the light, pineapple in your car
Nigga I shatter lives, my music camouflage
I court killers at the center of my synagogue
Torch in hand, extortion to the Fortune 500
From the porches to the Porsches with the wides on it
'Fore you snitches bitch, you better put your lives on it
Get you twisted by the [?] with them wires on it
I get my money smoking spliffs like it's Friday
I'm sitting sideways like I'm in my driveway
My champagne kicks, my shit 3 wheels
You niggas six feet, we gettin 3 meals
[Hook:]
They got jumped
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery
[Verse 2: Game]
Yeah I got 2 gun charges, 2 felonies, just got off probation
Today motherfucker, won't budge for no charge
Real nigga, I hold no grudge with no thugs
Come through spraying, bullets out the McLaaren
They ain't meant for you, move bitch, you hard of hearing?
I speed off doing 90 with Tha Carter blaring
Bust shots in the Cavalier like I ball with Baron
Yeah I Blake Griff niggas, make stiff niggas
Eminem wasn't Dr. Dre's only sick nigga
Insane in the membrane like Soul Assassins
12 gauge stop a nigga heart like a bowl of Aspirin
I hold automatics, let your man hold the casket
Murder game cold as Aspen, body found in the trash bin
First 48, they don't find me, case closed
Like a rehabilitation spot in Bobby Brown nose
Take em back to Boyz in da Hood when I pull the pump out
Something like C-Murder on Worldstar when I dump out
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Beanie Siegel]
Ain't nothing changed but them bullets in my clip
I still pull it, still bully niggas on the strip
Beef, I cook it fully with the fifth
And I ain't got no pets, I put a bullet in ya bitch
A nigga with a gun in his hand who won't bust it?
Like a bitch with a dick in her hand who won't suck it
This is the art of war, you niggas just drawing
Anything I target on is dearly departed, gone
Drive by or walk up on -
I just stop, breathe, aim cock squeeze
[?] on the Glock, infrared beam
Put your block up on machines while the pussies run and scream
[Hook]
[Intro: Rick Ross]
You know we got em
45s, machine guns, heavy artillery
We got those grenades on your ass, nigga
Boss. Black Wall Street
I'm in that bulletproof Maybach nigga (Teflon Don)
[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
Nigga talking like a G but walking like a broad
I pull up at the light, pineapple in your car
Nigga I shatter lives, my music camouflage
I court killers at the center of my synagogue
Torch in hand, extortion to the Fortune 500
From the porches to the Porsches with the wides on it
'Fore you snitches bitch, you better put your lives on it
Get you twisted by the [?] with them wires on it
I get my money smoking spliffs like it's Friday
I'm sitting sideways like I'm in my driveway
My champagne kicks, my shit 3 wheels
You niggas six feet, we gettin 3 meals
[Hook:]
They got jumped
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery
[Verse 2: Game]
Yeah I got 2 gun charges, 2 felonies, just got off probation
Today motherfucker, won't budge for no charge
Real nigga, I hold no grudge with no thugs
Come through spraying, bullets out the McLaaren
They ain't meant for you, move bitch, you hard of hearing?
I speed off doing 90 with Tha Carter blaring
Bust shots in the Cavalier like I ball with Baron
Yeah I Blake Griff niggas, make stiff niggas
Eminem wasn't Dr. Dre's only sick nigga
Insane in the membrane like Soul Assassins
12 gauge stop a nigga heart like a bowl of Aspirin
I hold automatics, let your man hold the casket
Murder game cold as Aspen, body found in the trash bin
First 48, they don't find me, case closed
Like a rehabilitation spot in Bobby Brown nose
Take em back to Boyz in da Hood when I pull the pump out
Something like C-Murder on Worldstar when I dump out
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Beanie Siegel]
Ain't nothing changed but them bullets in my clip
I still pull it, still bully niggas on the strip
Beef, I cook it fully with the fifth
And I ain't got no pets, I put a bullet in ya bitch
A nigga with a gun in his hand who won't bust it?
Like a bitch with a dick in her hand who won't suck it
This is the art of war, you niggas just drawing
Anything I target on is dearly departed, gone
Drive by or walk up on -
I just stop, breathe, aim cock squeeze
[?] on the Glock, infrared beam
Put your block up on machines while the pussies run and scream
[Hook]
Songwriters: Ross, Rick / Taylor, Jayceon / Grant, Dwight / Sigler, Walter / Gamble, Kenneth / Hurtt, Phillip L
Publisher: Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Powered by LyricFind
Publisher: Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Powered by LyricFind