lirik lagu westside gunn - 716 mile
[intro: westside gunn]
brrt
ayo (brrt)
brrt
brrt, brrt, brrt (ayo)
[verse 1: westside gunn]
everything we shootin’ got scratched numbers (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
i bet i hit something, hacksaw jim duggan (ho)
got a ring on every finger like i’m brick pumpin’ (ah)
out the pot, yay wet like trae young jumper
if they pull us over, don’t say nothing (don’t f~ckin’ say nothing)
my chopper got a “oh, you wanna play?” b~tton (you wanna f~ckin’ play?)
just dumped the d~mn bag, it didn’t weigh nothing (ah)
bricks white on white, nicole kidman, kate hudson (woo)
pump to your kids, what’s the safe numbers? (f~ck is the safe numbers?)
i’m picasso with the paintbrushes (ah)
twenty~three drop mclaren, honey mustard (skrrt)
i ‘came dame dolla at the buzzer (pew, pew, pew, pew, pew, pew, pew, pew)
[verse 2: boldy james]
my youngin rag redder than a blood bath of roses (woo)
allergic to blue steel, got a gun rash from totin’ (pew, pew, pew, pew)
silent but deadly since he last reloaded (what else?)
that stick’ll part the red sea like the staff of moses (where we at with it?)
i cleared ’em all out if they heard that window break and shatter (brr)
extendo clips’ll have you fallin’ down jacob’s ladder (doot, doot, doot, doot)
leave your mama teary~eyed, instill the fear of god (let’s get it)
just the thought of me takin’ his life make her even madder (haha)
bob and weavin’, boxin’ demons, leavin’ exodus (it’s on)
built for this sh~t just like my wrist because i’m pressure fit (get ’em gone, jones)
hook up a split, put on my mix just how my nephew wanted (mafia)
that ain’t my brick if it ain’t hit, i put some extras on it (haha)
hold your funeral on your block, i put them steppers on it (what else?)
roman numerals in my watch, leather corinthian (what else?)
‘fore i went in, was servin’ white boys in the suburbs (blocks)
while i was down, i opened up the book of proverbs (uh~huh)
d.a. diggin’ up old dirt to make them bodies stick (you know it)
that’s when i learned that cleanliness was next to godliness (blockworks)
long live titus, we used to call him uncle fester (blood)
remember cryin’ first time i served my auntie esther (titi)
twenty~five pints on the dresser next to the compressor (press up)
it ain’t no pressure, n~ggas know me and my gang purgin’ (gang time)
grammy~nominated, me and him ain’t the same person (at all)
on a stack of bibles, and it’s the king james version (let’s get it)
church
[interlude]
ain’t that the word on the street?
flygod has the best sh~t
[outro]
griselda by fashion rebels
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