| [Intro:]My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the | |
| Colt are king*[Verse 1:] | |
| My deluxe bullets lift you fucks up like a pull-up | |
| Carve you with a | |
| Phillip schmuck, | |
| Gemstar your grill up | |
| I’m not a law-abiding citizen, | |
| I’m a rider | |
| I get it in | |
| I’ll get acquitted fast after | |
| I smash your fitted in | |
| I almost got trapped in jail cause you’re a turncoat tattletale | |
| Battle snake rat, your legal battle failed | |
| I’ve broken all the rules, old-school gangster | |
| Provoke me and | |
| I’ll smoke you with the tools, choke you with your jewels | |
| Like a molar rips through, my whole crew flips you | |
| Money you try to son me and | |
| I’ll solar eclipse you | |
| Fuck you up like a polar shift, steal your skins | |
| Hardcore pimp, hat with the brim, | |
| Fillmore Slim | |
| You’re too stupid to work a gun son, it exploded | |
| Cause you’re the type to clean a gun out while it’s loaded | |
| I capitalize slapping you guys, you could be the best rapper | |
| I’m the best clapper alive[Chorus:] | |
| My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the | |
| Colt are king | |
| Thugcore cowboy, somebody gets beat | |
| Somebody fucked up boy | |
| I'll catch you for duffing the street, yeah | |
| I’ll do that | |
| Beef handling myself, true that | |
| My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the | |
| Colt are king[Verse 2:] | |
| You’ll never be victorious, you’ll forever lose | |
| You’re the sorriest excuse of a warrior the hood’s ever produced | |
| I’m vain glorious, | |
| I remain the goriest | |
| Pop a tourist with a | |
| Taurus, the slug tore through the chest | |
| Ghetto like a dollar cab, catch you solitaire | |
| Grab you by your collar, holler scared wallow down the stairs | |
| Trying to vic me shorty? | |
| You think you slick? | |
| I’m WD-40Slicker than the oil of a | |
| SaudiYou’re still breastfed in your nest, your father molests you | |
| Test-tube baby, you look like your mother dressed you | |
| Backslap you, bitch-smack you, cop pleas, screaming, “ | |
| Stop please!” | |
| Baseball bat pop knees | |
| I’m the shiznit while you got bad kismet | |
| You do bad business, your future’s cataclysmic | |
| Shoot you with the gat quick, orbit my fat prick | |
| Like the satellite | |
| Sputnik’ll suck a dick[Chorus] |
| Intro: My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the | |
| Colt are king Verse 1: | |
| My deluxe bullets lift you fucks up like a pullup | |
| Carve you with a | |
| Phillip schmuck, | |
| Gemstar your grill up | |
| I' m not a lawabiding citizen, | |
| I' m a rider | |
| I get it in | |
| I' ll get acquitted fast after | |
| I smash your fitted in | |
| I almost got trapped in jail cause you' re a turncoat tattletale | |
| Battle snake rat, your legal battle failed | |
| I' ve broken all the rules, oldschool gangster | |
| Provoke me and | |
| I' ll smoke you with the tools, choke you with your jewels | |
| Like a molar rips through, my whole crew flips you | |
| Money you try to son me and | |
| I' ll solar eclipse you | |
| Fuck you up like a polar shift, steal your skins | |
| Hardcore pimp, hat with the brim, | |
| Fillmore Slim | |
| You' re too stupid to work a gun son, it exploded | |
| Cause you' re the type to clean a gun out while it' s loaded | |
| I capitalize slapping you guys, you could be the best rapper | |
| I' m the best clapper alive Chorus: | |
| My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the | |
| Colt are king | |
| Thugcore cowboy, somebody gets beat | |
| Somebody fucked up boy | |
| I' ll catch you for duffing the street, yeah | |
| I' ll do that | |
| Beef handling myself, true that | |
| My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the | |
| Colt are king Verse 2: | |
| You' ll never be victorious, you' ll forever lose | |
| You' re the sorriest excuse of a warrior the hood' s ever produced | |
| I' m vain glorious, | |
| I remain the goriest | |
| Pop a tourist with a | |
| Taurus, the slug tore through the chest | |
| Ghetto like a dollar cab, catch you solitaire | |
| Grab you by your collar, holler scared wallow down the stairs | |
| Trying to vic me shorty? | |
| You think you slick? | |
| I' m WD40Slicker than the oil of a | |
| SaudiYou' re still breastfed in your nest, your father molests you | |
| Testtube baby, you look like your mother dressed you | |
| Backslap you, bitchsmack you, cop pleas, screaming, " | |
| Stop please!" | |
| Baseball bat pop knees | |
| I' m the shiznit while you got bad kismet | |
| You do bad business, your future' s cataclysmic | |
| Shoot you with the gat quick, orbit my fat prick | |
| Like the satellite | |
| Sputnik' ll suck a dick Chorus |
| Intro: My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the | |
| Colt are king Verse 1: | |
| My deluxe bullets lift you fucks up like a pullup | |
| Carve you with a | |
| Phillip schmuck, | |
| Gemstar your grill up | |
| I' m not a lawabiding citizen, | |
| I' m a rider | |
| I get it in | |
| I' ll get acquitted fast after | |
| I smash your fitted in | |
| I almost got trapped in jail cause you' re a turncoat tattletale | |
| Battle snake rat, your legal battle failed | |
| I' ve broken all the rules, oldschool gangster | |
| Provoke me and | |
| I' ll smoke you with the tools, choke you with your jewels | |
| Like a molar rips through, my whole crew flips you | |
| Money you try to son me and | |
| I' ll solar eclipse you | |
| Fuck you up like a polar shift, steal your skins | |
| Hardcore pimp, hat with the brim, | |
| Fillmore Slim | |
| You' re too stupid to work a gun son, it exploded | |
| Cause you' re the type to clean a gun out while it' s loaded | |
| I capitalize slapping you guys, you could be the best rapper | |
| I' m the best clapper alive Chorus: | |
| My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the | |
| Colt are king | |
| Thugcore cowboy, somebody gets beat | |
| Somebody fucked up boy | |
| I' ll catch you for duffing the street, yeah | |
| I' ll do that | |
| Beef handling myself, true that | |
| My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the | |
| Colt are king Verse 2: | |
| You' ll never be victorious, you' ll forever lose | |
| You' re the sorriest excuse of a warrior the hood' s ever produced | |
| I' m vain glorious, | |
| I remain the goriest | |
| Pop a tourist with a | |
| Taurus, the slug tore through the chest | |
| Ghetto like a dollar cab, catch you solitaire | |
| Grab you by your collar, holler scared wallow down the stairs | |
| Trying to vic me shorty? | |
| You think you slick? | |
| I' m WD40Slicker than the oil of a | |
| SaudiYou' re still breastfed in your nest, your father molests you | |
| Testtube baby, you look like your mother dressed you | |
| Backslap you, bitchsmack you, cop pleas, screaming, " | |
| Stop please!" | |
| Baseball bat pop knees | |
| I' m the shiznit while you got bad kismet | |
| You do bad business, your future' s cataclysmic | |
| Shoot you with the gat quick, orbit my fat prick | |
| Like the satellite | |
| Sputnik' ll suck a dick Chorus |
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