lirik lagu fatzilla & big opp - these glocks better than old glocks
[intro: fatzilla]
(camera zooms in on fatzilla loading a fresh clip into his glock, standing by a blacked~out suv.)
yeah, yeah, yeah (zilla!)
new glocks, new clips, same old war (boom)
we ain’t fightin’ fists, yeah, we up the score (bow!)
told ‘em level up, now they on the floor (hah)
switches singin’ like a symphony, let it roar (grrr!)
[chorus: fatzilla]
(scenes of fatzilla and big opp flexing with their upgraded weapons, cut with close~up shots of laser sights lighting up dark alleyways.)
these glocks better than old glocks, what you mean? (huh?)
extended mags, switches fast, clear the scenе (boom)
no recoil, headshot clean, rеd beam (brrt)
we don’t spin back twice, yeah, we make ‘em bleed (facts)
[verse 1: big opp]
(big opp steps out of the suv, holding a brand~new glock with a custom slide, pointing it at the camera.)
ayy, f~ck a old glock, this new one got a switch (boom!)
beam on his head, got ‘em duckin’ like a b~tch (p~ssy!)
tried to talk tough, now he sleepin’ in a ditch (hah!)
ain’t no second chances, hollow tips gon’ rip (brrt!)
(cut to big opp in a trap house, showing off a duffel bag filled with new glocks while counting money.)
f~ck a draco, this glock do damage (boom!)
thirty in the clip, that boy can’t manage (b~tch!)
caught him at the light, now his whip need vanish (skrrt!)
left him leakin’, brains on the canvas (boom, boom!)
(cut to rooftop scene, big opp aiming a glock with a red beam down at the opps below.)
i don’t fight, b~tch, this ain’t no slapbox (nah!)
new glock crispy, turn his whip to a matchbox (boom!)
f~ck his whole gang, put ‘em all in a casket (hah!)
hollows in his stomach, now he spillin’ like a gasket (boom, boom!)
[chorus: fatzilla & big opp]
(back to the shooting range scene, fatzilla and big opp taking turns firing at targets, smoke rising from their glocks.)
these glocks better than old glocks, what you mean? (huh?)
extended mags, switches fast, clear the scene (boom)
no recoil, headshot clean, red beam (brrt)
we don’t spin back twice, yeah, we make ‘em bleed (facts)
[verse 2: fatzilla]
(fatzilla sits in a warehouse, cleaning his glock, looking calm and collected.)
i don’t need to yell, i let the work talk (huh)
silencer on, make his heart stop (shhh)
paper chasin’, why you talkin’ to the cops? (rat)
hundred in the stash, fifty more inside the box (racks)
(cut to fatzilla walking through a high~end gun shop, looking at brand~new glock models.)
all my stuff legit, new plug, new deals (yeah)
laser sights hit him, now his fate sealed (boom)
gotta keep it tucked, city cold, cr~p real (facts)
these ain’t no throwaways, yeah, we trained to k!ll (grrr!)
[outro: big opp & fatzilla]
(final shots of them driving away in suvs, camera zooms in on the red beams hitting random targets.)
(big opp) f~ck a rusty glock, this new one got that bite! (boom!)
(fatzilla) ain’t no second try, yeah, you dead on sight! (boom!)
(the video fades to black as gunshots echo, and the text “these glocks better than old glocks” appears on the screen.)
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