Son of a Gun - Dumbfoundead, matik

When the guns come running out, they don’t care if it’s a sunny day, yeah

And they don’t come to play, they come to take your life away, yeah

Watch what you’re saying, watch what you’re doing

The who’s in front of you, when you don’t have a clue you better check it

Cause you don’t know who’s ready to press it

I said you just don’t know

What you see in your lifetime

Ever see your pops strike down, your mother on the face

Blood dripping down to the gutters of your drains

Screaming yelling a women utterly in pain

A boy and a girl just watching a boxing match

The boy had to let the cops in to lock his ass up

Cuffed in the back seat looking at his drunken ass

I wanted to sock his ass up

Momma went crazy and lost her mind

Lady that you never thought would pop a nine

Revenge on her mind all our poppa’s crimes

The drunken abuse and his concubines

Make a housewife go columbine

The gun was my uncle’s, saw him all the time

Smith and Wesson like distant relatives

Came and visited put us all in line

Tired of shit

Momma’s conscience saying fire that shit

Devil on her shoulder like «I insist»

All them times of flying fists

Nights filled with tears of them crying kids

Fighting inside of the lions den

Go ahead and pull the trigger on the count of ten

9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1, never again

Hot shells falling down on the floor

Like little rose petals, she loves me or loves me not

Memories of my own war

Bang bang and the think tank go bye bye

You think you’re thunder but this is black rain

When it rains it pours let it drop drop drop drop

These are the stories that I take to my grave

Shoot a few rounds in the sky when I die

What you see in your lifetime

Ever seen your homie rob a store and shoot the damn owner in the face

Fifty bucks in the register, damn what a waste

Caught up in the crossfire while po-po's chase

Turn four fours until you can’t go no place

Gotta give it up now, man you lost this race

Caught a big fat case, twenty-five to a lifer

Now he’s in a cell where it ain’t that safe

Twenty years pass, he’s a lot older, whole lot colder

Can’t stop won’t stop, code of the streets

All he knows is, holding the heat

On parole he’s released, and the first thing he does is

Go to his peeps, and he sold him a peace

A nine millimeter that’ll blow you to pieces

Bring you closer to Jesus

Now he’s close to losing his freedom

Oh no, he rolls to the same store

Where he gave that old man a halo

Same ol' like the job before

But he had no idea who he was robbing though

The son of the man that he shot before

When he told him to go ahead and pop the drawer

He reached for the shotgun and shot a hole

Into the head of the gunman, he lost his soul