Lay Ya Gunz Down Lyrics
| Song | Lay Ya Gunz Down |
| Artist | Rappin' 4-Tay |
| Album | 4 Tha Hard Way |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Forté | |
| I be poppin' this game with the most infamous | |
| Riders who be frontin' shit niggas known for killin' shit | |
| Out on the run with your gun | |
| Mr. Smith 'n Wesson makin' major connection | |
| Stressin' but you pack protection | |
| Dear Lord I'm prayin' | |
| In whatever direction they out to get me | |
| Stop breakin' laws for the cause haters out to kill me | |
| Look what I'm facin' retaliation who's the man | |
| Takin' out your anger but there's victim of circumstancers | |
| Like little kids and brothas 'n sistas 'n cuzzins | |
| But you don't give a **** cause you keep blowin 'em up | |
| Spreadin 'n buckin 'em | |
| Now what's your contribution life in an institution | |
| Them guns you're usin' in this game got us brothas losin' everythang | |
| And it's lookin' bad for the home team | |
| Sometimes a gang'll have you caught up wit them tripple beams | |
| No, never be a punk I'm coughin' off this chronic smoke | |
| I know you ain't no joke | |
| You's a bitch when you smoke your folks | |
| [Chorus: x2] | |
| Brothas are dyin' and bullets are flyin' | |
| And mommas are cryin' | |
| Mutha****a put them guns down | |
| Babies are dyin' and mommas are cryin' | |
| Because the bullets keep flyin' | |
| Mutha****a lay dem guns down (lay dem guns down) | |
| [Verse 2:] | |
| They say it takes a man to walk away but **** that | |
| So you's a man because you pack a .9 millami to Gat | |
| That shit is old who you wanna impress all your friends | |
| Cock the hammer back [?] stuck in the pen | |
| That's what they want playa | |
| Can't you see it's clear they | |
| Shippin' them guns just like that coke so we can spray | |
| It takes a fool to learn the devil loves nobody | |
| Plus the trigga's got no heart, man **** a autopsy | |
| We ripped off I'm pissed off my people's fallin' off | |
| Tryin' to get a reputation find him with his head off in a ditch | |
| So ain't that 'bout a bitch found out he was a snitch | |
| So they kicked to the norch and never did a liquor time | |
| That's why I spit these rhymes so hopefully | |
| You can see the game is quick to hypnotise your mind | |
| And if you let it you'll gettin' caught up | |
| Thought he had your back but when the drama took place | |
| Them fools was up now picture that | |
| [Chorus: x2] | |
| [Verse 3:] | |
| Who can you trust when they buckin' up 'n down your block | |
| Cause 911 is just a joke full of crooked cops | |
| Nightstalkers creepin' thru your back | |
| [?] but it be for real , man | |
| That's just what them guns for | |
| Cause it ain't no tellin' | |
| Gots to always keep escape routes | |
| Convicts and felons ain't the only fools | |
| Takin 'em out for good punk I wish you would | |
| I hope I'm understood because them funerals batch and batch | |
| This ain't no good | |
| Can't even stroll on the sunday with my kids and mother | |
| I'm gettin' sick and tired | |
| I'll always have a break for cover | |
| With all this drama 'n hustlin' | |
| A playa's tryin' to accomplish | |
| And that's we all know another day is never promised | |
| It's fault across the world not just up in California | |
| You doin' dirt you best believe the dirt gon creep up on ya | |
| Batterram here comes the F.B.I. and D.A. | |
| When they come to buck you down it's hard to live a playa's way | |
| [Chorus: x2] | |
| [Outro:] | |
| [?] | |
| Bob Dole and Bill Clinton | |
| Y'all need to holla at playa , dough | |
| And all you TRU playas out there , man | |
| Put them guns down | |
| And that's real |
| zuo ci : Forte | |
| I be poppin' this game with the most infamous | |
| Riders who be frontin' shit niggas known for killin' shit | |
| Out on the run with your gun | |
| Mr. Smith ' n Wesson makin' major connection | |
| Stressin' but you pack protection | |
| Dear Lord I' m prayin' | |
| In whatever direction they out to get me | |
| Stop breakin' laws for the cause haters out to kill me | |
| Look what I' m facin' retaliation who' s the man | |
| Takin' out your anger but there' s victim of circumstancers | |
| Like little kids and brothas ' n sistas ' n cuzzins | |
| But you don' t give a cause you keep blowin ' em up | |
| Spreadin ' n buckin ' em | |
| Now what' s your contribution life in an institution | |
| Them guns you' re usin' in this game got us brothas losin' everythang | |
| And it' s lookin' bad for the home team | |
| Sometimes a gang' ll have you caught up wit them tripple beams | |
| No, never be a punk I' m coughin' off this chronic smoke | |
| I know you ain' t no joke | |
| You' s a bitch when you smoke your folks | |
| Chorus: x2 | |
| Brothas are dyin' and bullets are flyin' | |
| And mommas are cryin' | |
| Mutha a put them guns down | |
| Babies are dyin' and mommas are cryin' | |
| Because the bullets keep flyin' | |
| Mutha a lay dem guns down lay dem guns down | |
| Verse 2: | |
| They say it takes a man to walk away but that | |
| So you' s a man because you pack a . 9 millami to Gat | |
| That shit is old who you wanna impress all your friends | |
| Cock the hammer back ? stuck in the pen | |
| That' s what they want playa | |
| Can' t you see it' s clear they | |
| Shippin' them guns just like that coke so we can spray | |
| It takes a fool to learn the devil loves nobody | |
| Plus the trigga' s got no heart, man a autopsy | |
| We ripped off I' m pissed off my people' s fallin' off | |
| Tryin' to get a reputation find him with his head off in a ditch | |
| So ain' t that ' bout a bitch found out he was a snitch | |
| So they kicked to the norch and never did a liquor time | |
| That' s why I spit these rhymes so hopefully | |
| You can see the game is quick to hypnotise your mind | |
| And if you let it you' ll gettin' caught up | |
| Thought he had your back but when the drama took place | |
| Them fools was up now picture that | |
| Chorus: x2 | |
| Verse 3: | |
| Who can you trust when they buckin' up ' n down your block | |
| Cause 911 is just a joke full of crooked cops | |
| Nightstalkers creepin' thru your back | |
| ? but it be for real , man | |
| That' s just what them guns for | |
| Cause it ain' t no tellin' | |
| Gots to always keep escape routes | |
| Convicts and felons ain' t the only fools | |
| Takin ' em out for good punk I wish you would | |
| I hope I' m understood because them funerals batch and batch | |
| This ain' t no good | |
| Can' t even stroll on the sunday with my kids and mother | |
| I' m gettin' sick and tired | |
| I' ll always have a break for cover | |
| With all this drama ' n hustlin' | |
| A playa' s tryin' to accomplish | |
| And that' s we all know another day is never promised | |
| It' s fault across the world not just up in California | |
| You doin' dirt you best believe the dirt gon creep up on ya | |
| Batterram here comes the F. B. I. and D. A. | |
| When they come to buck you down it' s hard to live a playa' s way | |
| Chorus: x2 | |
| Outro: | |
| ? | |
| Bob Dole and Bill Clinton | |
| Y' all need to holla at playa , dough | |
| And all you TRU playas out there , man | |
| Put them guns down | |
| And that' s real |
| zuò cí : Forté | |
| I be poppin' this game with the most infamous | |
| Riders who be frontin' shit niggas known for killin' shit | |
| Out on the run with your gun | |
| Mr. Smith ' n Wesson makin' major connection | |
| Stressin' but you pack protection | |
| Dear Lord I' m prayin' | |
| In whatever direction they out to get me | |
| Stop breakin' laws for the cause haters out to kill me | |
| Look what I' m facin' retaliation who' s the man | |
| Takin' out your anger but there' s victim of circumstancers | |
| Like little kids and brothas ' n sistas ' n cuzzins | |
| But you don' t give a cause you keep blowin ' em up | |
| Spreadin ' n buckin ' em | |
| Now what' s your contribution life in an institution | |
| Them guns you' re usin' in this game got us brothas losin' everythang | |
| And it' s lookin' bad for the home team | |
| Sometimes a gang' ll have you caught up wit them tripple beams | |
| No, never be a punk I' m coughin' off this chronic smoke | |
| I know you ain' t no joke | |
| You' s a bitch when you smoke your folks | |
| Chorus: x2 | |
| Brothas are dyin' and bullets are flyin' | |
| And mommas are cryin' | |
| Mutha a put them guns down | |
| Babies are dyin' and mommas are cryin' | |
| Because the bullets keep flyin' | |
| Mutha a lay dem guns down lay dem guns down | |
| Verse 2: | |
| They say it takes a man to walk away but that | |
| So you' s a man because you pack a . 9 millami to Gat | |
| That shit is old who you wanna impress all your friends | |
| Cock the hammer back ? stuck in the pen | |
| That' s what they want playa | |
| Can' t you see it' s clear they | |
| Shippin' them guns just like that coke so we can spray | |
| It takes a fool to learn the devil loves nobody | |
| Plus the trigga' s got no heart, man a autopsy | |
| We ripped off I' m pissed off my people' s fallin' off | |
| Tryin' to get a reputation find him with his head off in a ditch | |
| So ain' t that ' bout a bitch found out he was a snitch | |
| So they kicked to the norch and never did a liquor time | |
| That' s why I spit these rhymes so hopefully | |
| You can see the game is quick to hypnotise your mind | |
| And if you let it you' ll gettin' caught up | |
| Thought he had your back but when the drama took place | |
| Them fools was up now picture that | |
| Chorus: x2 | |
| Verse 3: | |
| Who can you trust when they buckin' up ' n down your block | |
| Cause 911 is just a joke full of crooked cops | |
| Nightstalkers creepin' thru your back | |
| ? but it be for real , man | |
| That' s just what them guns for | |
| Cause it ain' t no tellin' | |
| Gots to always keep escape routes | |
| Convicts and felons ain' t the only fools | |
| Takin ' em out for good punk I wish you would | |
| I hope I' m understood because them funerals batch and batch | |
| This ain' t no good | |
| Can' t even stroll on the sunday with my kids and mother | |
| I' m gettin' sick and tired | |
| I' ll always have a break for cover | |
| With all this drama ' n hustlin' | |
| A playa' s tryin' to accomplish | |
| And that' s we all know another day is never promised | |
| It' s fault across the world not just up in California | |
| You doin' dirt you best believe the dirt gon creep up on ya | |
| Batterram here comes the F. B. I. and D. A. | |
| When they come to buck you down it' s hard to live a playa' s way | |
| Chorus: x2 | |
| Outro: | |
| ? | |
| Bob Dole and Bill Clinton | |
| Y' all need to holla at playa , dough | |
| And all you TRU playas out there , man | |
| Put them guns down | |
| And that' s real |
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