lirik lagu dj paul & lord infamous – front page
[hook]
grab da gauge, i’m in a rage
ride up on the strip and put some n-gg-s on the front page
[verse 1: dj paul]
glock nineteen, ninety, nine double-m
pierce the skin off of him
with the killa man with the glock
better kill a n-gg- full-clip
fifteen rounds, better duck, or i’ll kill a n-gg-‘s sh-t
back like some fruits
i’m kicking a solid black, baha suit
n-gg-s talk that sh-t on they tapes like they grand daddys
and grand mothers are bulletproof
givin’ yo tapes out free because your sh-t won’t sell
hoe you got bullsh-t rappers, bullsh-t dj’s and some other sh-t
i’m hearin’ hoe sh-t on your t-a-p-e
n-gg-s if you think you real step to the black haven side
i grab my g-au-g-e, b-tch
[verse 2: kingpin skinny pimp]
(a angel on the left, the devil on right)
i hate what’s in the middle (the sky was day and night)
bustas better duck from the buckin’ of the double barrel pump
plus a trunk for a n-gg- that’ll slip
hangin’ in the projects, all my crooked thugs
never love a rookie sucker, take a n-gg- grip when i rip
trough the backdoor, lay it down, i’m a clown
when i’m full of crown, scary b-tch chop it up fast
watch out i’m poppin’ i’m droppin’ the gauge
like a baby, go gogo, and leave you wet fast
hangin’ at the liquor store, little gin, full of dope
strapped with the twelve gauge, gotta let the b-tch smoke
in the wind, bullets in the afro
f-ckin’ with the fright hide keep a n-gg- strapped up
[hook]
grab da gauge, i’m in a rage
ride up on the strip and put some n-gg-s on the front page
[verse 3: gangsta boo]
i’m about to creep up on a n-gg- and make a easy stang
stang like a b-mblebee just like my n-gg- skinny mane
scarecrow my n-gg- do you think that i can do this sh-t?
do you think i can get away so smooth after i hit this b-tch?
it can be done so all for one and one for f-ckin’ all
gangsta boo the devils daughter, quick to make you limits fall
the sounds of thunder, mh i wonder are you familiar with this?
but if you not you will be soon for f-ckin’ with triple six!
[verse 4: koopsta knicca]
g-ngb-ng until you envision the christ, mane
and put you in the sack until it’s day lit
inside of my dreams, it’s filled with nothing but screams
where preachers will witness the hangings
strangeness, in the holy bible they can’t chaste me
there’s no soul is in me
come on, now come burn with me
satan is my f-cking witness
the triple six sh-t, it started controlling my blood a year ago
since i was ejected from the streets up in heaven
i’m quickly like blasting you hoes
as told, a true blooded criminal leaving murders under covers
think about my mother, i’m grabbing the gauge
and commence to like blasting you bustaz
[verse 5: lord infamous]
me be so indulged with the dope
and i’m thinkin’ i’m about to faint
the smoke from the jamaican ganja
and i’m steady sippin’ on neck red through paint, as i drank
i think, i want to just spray n-gg-s while smokin dank
then i will go get me some f-cking black market artillery
like a d-mn tank so i can sank
a battleship, me motherf-ckin’ m-n-script
pimp me foreigner grip to make blood drip
with clips of hollow tips, no miss
by lord, a n-gg- you cannot afford
to f-ck with, i buck with motherf-ckin’ scar-flips
he slips, i swings machetes trough his arteries
i don’t leave enough of the guts for them
to be performin’ some f-ckin’ autopsies
i pop these plastics and burn yo -ss like acid
sn-tch out ya f-cking eyes and put ’em in a jar like vlasic’s
by smokin’ on this blunt-ah, i’m burnin’ bud like lumber
scarecrow the spirit hunter lives on planet marijuana
satanic triple 6, satan himself gave me a gun
i’m pumpin’ this twenty gauge tryin’ to knock out your lungs
i believe in that redrum, b-tch
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