Grab My Gun lyrics

[Hook:]
Grab the 9,2 clips and run a muck!
So I grab my gun
A fist-full of bullets,a chest full of teflon
Nowhere to run,so I grab my gun!

[Biggie]
I'm sticking ice picks on the tip of your di*k
Give your testicles a swift kick ain't that some sh*t
Am I hard-hardcore harder than the Plymouth
It ain't no myth. It's a n*gga with a spliff
And a chrome four-fifth pressed on yo back
So what you want n*gga?
How you wanna act?
I'm uncivilized cause I love to see n*ggas die
Brains all leaking out on the street
And the pastor preaching: he was a good man
Played the bad man when the burner was in his hand
Now he's singing sad songs with Elvis
Three to the head, 'bout six cross the pelvis
You f*ck with the high die you die
You're the same motherf*cker
If you look up in the sky
I want some old nex sh*t
Suplex sh*t
Hardcore sex sh*t

[Hook:]
Grab the 9, 2 clips and run a muck!
So I grab my gun
A fist-full of bullets,a chest full of teflon
Nowhere to run,so I grab my gun!

[Biggie]
A repetitive loop all I need to display
Solo is the proof I put it to you boy
Hope you got the scoop
Biggie Smalls the rap genius
I keep the Glock by the p*nis
The cleanest cut f*ck sl*ts
With the big humongous butts
I used to rub a butt
My style is Gucci like the hookers pus*y
And it don't take a lot of back talk
To push me into flamin 'em
Like that little n*gga Damien
Glock 19 to my motherf*cking cranium
Gang-thight gun toting motherf*cker
n*ggas in they brains thought biggie was a sucker
I tricked 'em, I gave 'em work then I sticked 'em
I stripped 'em, cause n*ggas dont want the friction
Told you before how I bring the drama
Slaying Larry Johnson and his grand mama!
[Hook:]
Grab the 9,2 clips and run a muck!
So I grab my gun
A fist-full of bullets,a chest full of teflon
Nowhere to run,so I grab my gun!

[Biggie]
f*ck around and feel the fury of a high n*gga when I get busy, throw ya hands in the sky n*gga I got the illest of the ill mentality
n*ggas be grabbing me, knowing that they rather be stabbing me
All up in my back, try'na take my track
When I used to sell crack I ain't had problems like that
Street rules, watch your pockets and your jewels
A n*gga front throw a gat to the fool next one to move is getting blasted
Streets to a flows from the ill ghetto bast*rd
As I release Master piece it's like indecent
Stuck to your ass like tissue when you're wiping fast
MC's have a hard time believin'
I'm marked with death hard to kill like Steven
With Jacob I'm leavin' the black man's motto: "You got a better chance playing lotto"

[Hook:]
Grab the 9,2 clips and run a muck!
So I grab my gun
A fist-full of bullets, a chest full of teflon
Nowhere to run, so I grab my gun!