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Toolz of the Trade

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Thinking back to like motherfucking 80's and shit Niggas used to be passing them things You know what I'm saying? Hit that nigga, hit that nigga Smith & Wesson My first love was a deuce-deuce, nice and slim Tucked in my chukka boots, what a priceless gem When I took her out to the clubs, we got right in She kept me safe, even held me down in fights with men I like my murder mommies loud and thick Handle tight and grip, not shot or spit Make daddy proud as shit Four foot five hooker, move the whole crowd looker Short stack black well done beef cooker My straight 80 kept me crazy, dun she had me whipped In the whip high riding by ready to spit She like to talk shit, she's a cocky bitch Firm grip, all black like licorice I sleep with hoes and creep with hoes Eat off hoes, I love these fo'-fo's Over nine double in the L bubble Smash security with something, we all in the stunner These are the tools of the trade that we use to get paid When we cruise in Escalades or Escapades with guns ablaze Been a maze since the younger age, saved from the hunger pain Bang when the trouble came, pioneers of gun slang Why you with them thangs? A little something something Send fire to the game, my system be thumping Oh boy boy, sounds with guns busting Oh boy boy, your heart just stopped pumping It was love at first sight when I burst the pipe Off the project roof in the middle of night On the block, Independence Day, pistols ignite Ghetto tunes we vibe to, write rhymes and recite Nigga my .44 was raw, she had me wired Had my dick rock solid first time she fired Had a six that was silent, Smith & Wesson medallion Only fuck with professionals and kids with thousands One bitch her ass was plump Nickname China Shotgun, nigga used to love how she pump She kept the money looking double barrel Shoe string around my neck, the whole party peril You run your whole apparel Boots, coats, chains, rings and wallets Break your pockets, love when niggas think they brawlics Jump up and run and rustle, dog we don't tussle Squeeze off at a gang of little pellets touch you These are the tools of the trade that we use to get paid When we cruise in Escalades or Escapades with guns ablaze Been a maze since the younger age, saved from the hunger pain Bang when the trouble came, pioneers of gun slang Why you with them thangs? A little something something Send fire to the game, my system be thumping Oh boy boy, sounds with guns busting Oh boy boy, your heart just stopped pumping Get 'em at six when they brains open to rain Show 'em the rings of how to squeeze eight of them thangs Let 'em grow for a spell then I catch 'em at twelve Put the one in the head is how I'm taking the L When they graduate to sixteen it's all bets off Shell cases, no relations when the semis letting off My nine milli had me silly, smoking dro in Phillies Feeling like a Big Willie taking cabs in the city 740 Illy twisting the sticky hash from Ricky Trigger itchy, nice and slippery, fuck with me Have you ever seen a .45 before? Big MAC-11 nozzle right 'pon your jaw These are the tools of the trade that we use to get paid When we cruise in Escalades or Escapades with guns ablaze Been a maze since the younger age, saved from the hunger pain Bang when the trouble came, pioneers of gun slang Why you with them thangs? A little something something Send fire to the game, my system be thumping Oh boy boy, sounds with guns busting Oh boy boy, your heart just stopped pumping Your heart just stopped pumping Your heart just stopped pumping That's what we do Clap, clap, clap Smith & Wesson Tech and steel Coco B P and C Niggas who love to hate Eat our art We on the beat Eat our art B.A. all day