Gunz Don't Kill - J-Love, La the Darkman

Uh, yeah… uh, yeah…\nYeah…\nNiggas that ain’t fam, I give a fuck about cha\nRob you like a bank, get some money up out cha\nTwo faced faggot ass, backstabbing punks\nWaiting on you to move, so I can pull out and dump\nIt’s a cold cold world, and niggas are weeded up\nSo I keep gats, so I can heat it up\nWinter, spring, summer, fall, I prepare to brawl\nFuck some, I want it all, La quick on the draw\nHard nosed nigga with a Sing Sing click\nLock on a nigga, like a red nosed pick\nTired of these broads with this 'love you' shit\nLove ain’t for me, but you can love my dick\nOr all this cake, that you seeing me get\nOr all these whips, that you seeing me switch\nYou get the money, the power, then the bitch\nNiggas choose getting high over getting rich, so I\nShoot 'em, nigga, shoot 'em, nigga, shoot 'em, nigga\nGuns don’t kill, it’s the nigga behind the trigger, I\nI’m a specialist, move like a cat burglar\nLa, real life stocking cap murderer\nLeave you filled with holes, blood all over your nice clothes\nI never sleep like I took a million No-Doze\nMost niggas don’t trust me, but, they can’t touch me\nReal bad boy, and I ain’t down with Puffy\nNiggas must be, out they God damn mind\nThinking my Sing Sing regime ain’t gon' shine\nThinking I only get my money from a rhyme\nI cop, cook, pack and sell, I’m on my grind\nAnd I stay in the hottest whips, that foreigners design\nWith houses like Saddam and Osama, hard to find\nI’m a don, you get shot going against me\nLeave a bag where you shit, leave a straw where you pee\nI’m that deal, turn your two legs to two wheels\nYou’ll never walk again, believe I’m that chill, I