Lyrics
I got madd gadgets, yeh I sound cocky, but in honesty, I aint tryna brag-it//
Put em into a faggit, so basically if ya want it, muthafucka, you can have-it//
I got this one gun, easy to stun//
So when ya see it run… it can turn ya proper like a nun//
Gotta magnum, that’s already had-em//
Carry bullets wit so much gloss, man, it look platinum//
I speak of more shotguns then John Madden//
And my gun powder aint been seen by Bin Laden//
Couple of gats go threw bullet proof padden//
So most likely you die, and they’ll say you a has-been//
Another glock I got, take a couple shots//
Cuz I got more clips on me then any barbershop//
I toss more rock’s then what sean carter-got//
And got more shells then any damn harbor-spot//
My firearms is crazy…from rifles, handguns, to revolvers it aint been seen by the navy//
Click-clack, click-clack…ya better sit-back//
Before my shooting range turns to your six-pack//
Fill you wit six-caps…cuz im known to brake you off a piece of my piece like kit-kats//
And I aint fuckin around, better watch ya back//
Cuz I got more rounds on me then a boxing match//
Revolver, you can have it…shotgun, you can have it…matter fact all of you can have it//
Im going out in havoc, Got the mag, you can have it…45 Marlin, you can have it//
Glocks, you can have it…why? Cuz mutherfucka, I said Im going out in havoc//
Aint speakin to you faggits, cuz as long as what I got unloads shells, man, you can have it//
Caps, shells, rounds, bullets, whatever ya call-it//
Just kno whatever it is, its gonna get braulic//
Shots gone be threw ya wallet…
Another hole in ya ass, so shit twice as much when ya squat-it//
Bodies meet gats, bodies turn to scraps//
Cuz pepsi and coke combined, aint got this many caps//
Unless you talk crap, relax…
Cuz I got bullets on me like Washington did way back//
Front hard? So ya wanna act buff-hey?//
That get you more shells then an Italian buffet//
Have ya blood on da floor after a bullet find-ya//
You’ll see im not a backtalker, but still im right behind-ya//
Witta gun bigger then a minor…
That’ll leave holes in ya head like salt and pepper at a dinner//
Magnum, you can have it…
Why? Shit I don’t kno, in honesty I guess it’s a habit//
Ya say I talk guns, and ya never seen one flare//
Just cuz you aint seen it bitch, don’t mean it aint there//
Keep speakin that mess, and metal’ll fly in da air//
Land on ya skull and coming out the back of ya hair//
And don’t get it twisted, I even got bombs…
Who ya think Bush hit up, when he went at Sadaam//
Haters don’t wanna see when the gat withdrawn…
But when they do, its like a diet cuz the beef is gone//
Revolver, you can have it…shotgun, you can have it…matter fact all of you can have it//
Im going out in havoc, Got the mag, you can have it…45 Marlin, you can have it//
Glocks, you can have it…why? Cuz mutherfucka, I said Im going out in havoc//
Aint speakin to you faggits, cuz as long as what I got unloads shells, man, you can have it//
