Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): Javahn Barry, Robert Briggs, Isaac Booker
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GP WuTwo Gats Up Lyrics:
Forty individuals, keep it on the low?
Keep it on the low, aight
Yo, yo, yo, word up, let's go, nigga, nigga
Yo pimp get the departure let's start the execution
Seems like everybody rappin's Robbin
And shootin', talkin' real cheap
I got a record deal just to get away from the streets
Niggas stuck up shit's creek with no way to escape
When we bombard, niggas get stomped hard like wine grapes
What the fuck you thought, GP connects the [Incomprehensible]
Majority of these rap cats don't even get a grin
Never paid dues, actin' like they vets on my set
'Til they get a reality check
Niggas still wet behind the ears in this rap shit
Get blown off the face of the Earth by the GP click
Whoever wrote the book on hip hop we revised it
Now adapt to the Shaolin chapter
The non fiction, number one bestseller
Project award winner, two gats up
Yeah, it's obvious you the sloppiest
Got a glass forehead so you're bad when you copy this
You could say we live for the winter, ain't no shorts taken
Veterans, no beginners, constant winner, a born sinner
Make you think your style is thinner, you're too pary to carry
A microphone across stage knowin' that I'm on the other side
Ready to conquer and divide, holdin' mine comes natural
Formin' rhymes outta thoughts with smoke and nails
A real nigga never tells, real niggas know that fake niggas gel
Get bugged, don't blow, perishable MCs got blinders on
Leadin' themselves into the storm, it's the power of God
PG, parental guidance, GP, unmistakably the finest
Non-commercial, universal, hip hop assassinator
Track killer, premeditated murder, may the force be with you
When you go up against this record sellin' burglar Darth Vader
Hit you up somethin' terror
And I make you wish you never heard of a Gladiator
Secret spies tryin to steal Grain data
Hit 'em up with the steel, get the jackulator
Ill fanatic, leave 'em con beat and battered
They all look at R, another hip hop star
Brown Hornet, I got MCs cornered like a rat
I hit a home run every time up to bat
You could read about it, talk about it, ain't no doubt about it
I get amped when shows are crowded
So come support me hold down the fort
I score every time I touch a hip hop court
Watch me dunk on 'em, then hit a three on 'em
Yo he a punk, I knock him out and then I pee on him
Verbal gymnastic master tactics
Niggas styles is softer than a sixty dollar mattress
But I refuse to bend, I intend to explore the top ten
Don't try to analyze or comprehend, accept it, GP connected
Niggas run for the bomb but Shaolin style's intercepted it
Have no fear the foundation's here
Lettin' party-goers know that we truly do care
It's not all guns and violence, we like to fuck to
Try to act conservative, we love when Johnny buck-buck
Lyrical combat better watch your ass son
I shines pretty like a double four Magnum
The impact from the gat goes boom
So when I'm speakin' I appreciate the room
My character erupt like a nigga
I'm stressed, baby and I'm down on my last trigger
One in the chamber, nothin's gonna change the
Infrared dot to your skull meaning danger
Duck, boom-pow, it's too late you're caught
What, raise up and act like you want it
I didn't think so nigga, you're fuckin' with a major
Even X-Men couldn't save ya
Yup I'm a new bad boy New York stalker
Crash MCs, they need therapy, then a walker
Fast talker, do the knowledge I lost ya
Justice prevailed, fucked around and who crossed ya
This is not a test, hip hop is in a real state of emergency
If this had been a test you would not be bearing witness
To the hip hop saviors, June Luva, Pop The Brown Hornet
Rubberbands and Down Low Recka
We now advise you to pump this loud
As we return to our regular scheduled program
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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