Massive Heat lyrics

[Intro: Peter Gunz]
Uh
(PG)

[Verse 1: Peter Gunz]
I walk holdin' my balls about an inch from the wall
Keep b*tches hypnotized as if my name was Biggie Smalls
Your girl's a dime dipper, n*gga keep her head locked
Trust Gunz with your wife? Motherf*cker bet not
Sleep on Peter G, please don't ever doubt it
From here to New Orleans, I'll improve da 'bout it 'bout it
From the days of doin' Michael, to the days of bein' jailed
Clash with the thoughts that kept my fresh mind stale

[Bridge: Peter Gunz]
Now, who you know, with a New York flow
That keeps a broad respect from California like I'm
Snoop Doggy Dogg?

[Verse 2: Peter Gunz]
Well, I'm Pete gunny Gunz
For plenty ammo ammo
Shove this pipe in yo wife
And watch her voice hit soprano
I got rhymes, c*ck nine
Just sh*ts not a gimmick
That n*gga that raps about it
But he'd do it in a minute
Got schemes that'll break yo wealth
Break yo health
You see me comin' n*gga
Just, break yourself, (break yourself)
Got Bronx Tales like De Niro
The girl call me, "Hero"
Bust her kids in the mouth in a 15-0-0
Playas play on
Hatas hate on
Put my weight on
Hit yo b*tch off
And then I skate on
Lay on, me and my man lawless
Too broad, for you n*ggas to f*ck with
n*ggas can't touch this
Try to rush this?
f*ck out of here... (you know what I'm sayin'?)
[Chorus: Sticky Fingaz]
This is for my n*ggas holdin' down the street
Sellin' drums hand to hand under massive heat
'Cause a n*gga got to do what he gots to do
So if you that type of n*gga, then this sh*t's for you
All my gun slingin' n*ggas from L.A. to New York
Who ain't havin' it, let the pistols spray then we talk
'Cause a n*gga got to do what he gots to do
So if you that type of n*gga then this sh*t's for you

[Verse 3: Kurupt]
You just a facsimile
You 'bout to get that ass taxed
This is simple
And beat with bats
I got a little somethin' somethin'
For all you cats
And all you fleas
And all MC's, (all y'all)
Midnight dark
c*ck back the spark
It starts sparkin'
Til' everything's dark
And I know where them n*ggas is at
There they go
Gettin' hit like, "Where the homies at?
Where they go?"
Yeah n*gga
Y'all left alone in the zone
Where heads are flown back
Both blown then it's on
We're terrorists, governmental
Tight and gigantic
Titanium, subterraneum
Titanic, it's all loose
Vanish and run 'em down, (what?!)
Peter gunnin' 'em down
Full pound, full round
Tariq, snatch the pockets of his pants
Rob a fringah, (what?!)
That's what you get
For f*cking with n*ggas with
Sticky Fingaz, (yeah, yeah)
I thought about it (uhuh?)
And naw, I don't doubt it
Might get us
But don't f*ck with us
[Verse 4: Peter Gunz]
Gunz (7x)
Movin' and groovin'
And showin' *fades*
Ay yo I blast in the door
Everybody get the f*ck down
Anybody move is gettin' bucked down
Kurupt pull the truck round
Blindfold gag these n*ggas
Grab these n*ggas
They move, bodybag these n*ggas
That's when they start b*tchin'
Like, "He said it", and "He said it"
What the funny sh*t about it? (yo)
They both gettin' deaded (hah!)
Where you headed?
It's a lot fish
You might see the Titanic
It is gigantic
But you're dead n*gga
In five minutes

[Verse 5: Lord Tariq]
Ay yo, I bust him in his mouth
I give a new meaning to
"Bite the bullet"
If he flinch, I won't think
I react, and just pull it
Got the tank 22, full clip
c*ck back into yo neck
Silly you
I'm killin' you
You gettin' blessed by the L-O
Say hello, to my big partner
Yo with this heavy metal
I'ma rock ya
I clear yo f*ckin' block ya, bring your guns
Ya bring your goons
And I'm killin' all 9 of y'all motherf*ckers
[Chorus: Sticky Fingaz]
This is for my n*ggas holdin' down the street
Sellin' drums hand to hand under massive heat
'Cause a n*gga got to do what he gots to do
So if you that type of n*gga, then this sh*t's for you
All my gun slingin' n*ggas from L.A. to New York
Who ain't havin' it, let the pistols spray then we talk
'Cause a n*gga got to do what he gots to do
So if you that type of n*gga then this sh*t's for you

[Verse 6: Lord Tariq]
Ay yo I see 9 n*ggas
I got 9 shots, I gots to stay low
n*ggas know me, from
Robbin' spots
Better get my rec on
I got my vest on
My sh*t is reinforced
Thick enough to stop Teflon
They got about a key
In the corner
They sittin' in a 3
In a quarter
Unaware of the manslaughter
So I approach the man
The keys to the cars, cash and coke
"Get the f*ck on the floor
Or get smoked!" motherf*cker!
Starin' at the trees on my trucker
Jumped in the 3, I hit a bruptner
I must'a been doin' about 80
Some n*ggas gave chase in a Mercedes
I'm laughin', (hahaha!)
My nine start blastin'
Six to the chest
For being swift with the tongue
High-strung, now you use a garbage bag for a lung
You can't f*ck with a gun
I've been in this game since '81
Lord Tariq, Peter Gunz, y'all done

[Chorus: Sticky Fingaz]
This is for my n*ggas holdin' down the street
Sellin' drums hand to hand under massive heat
'Cause a n*gga got to do what he gots to do
So if you that type of n*gga, then this sh*t's for you
All my gun slingin' n*ggas from L.A. to New York
Who ain't havin' it, let the pistols spray then we talk
'Cause a n*gga got to do what he gots to do
So if you that type of n*gga then this sh*t's for you