Mac 10 Wounds lyrics

[Intro: Clerk from The Terminator & Andy from Taxi Driver]
That's Italian. You want pump or auto?
It's nickel-plated, snub-nosed, otherwise the same as the service revolver
They're brand-new. We just got them in
That'll stop anything that moves
Just touch the trigger, the beam comes on and you put the red dot where you want the bullet to go. You can't miss
That .38, it's a fine gun

[Verse 1]
Look, I got shot in the helmet, and I ain't feel a thing
Sold crack to my mama and I ain't feel ashamed
You n*ggas talkin' like killers, but won't kill a thing
Might go to the n*gga show just to steal his chain
I'll be the first one blammin' a shot
It's like in Juice when Raheem gave the hammer to 'Pac
Watch how I stand in the spot, put the grams in the pot
Flip it twice, might take my b*tch to Atlanta to shop
Clips with 30 shots jammed in the Glocks
Bricks from the cartel, naked ladies stamped in the blocks (Woo!)
Ain't nothing 'bout me weak, n*gga
Wig shot, I left that spitter in the weak n*gga (True story)
I'm just here to get the safe from you
If I don't get it then I'ma just take the bone out your face from you
Them f*ck n*ggas in the hood, they'll fake love you
Next thing you know, they in your bushes tryna wait for you
You got pus*y in your heart, homie, I can't trust you (You pus*y)
You lose a part on your body when the K cut you (Woo!)
I say "f*ck you!" n*gga
I might drop you from the top of your projects, they'll have to scrape up you
Big dutch and a di*k suck what I wake up to
Fifth tuck when the sh*t buck, it'll break up you, uh
Griselda n*gga, that's the set
Clap the TECs, savages crash and rest
Snatch the baby out the bassinet
[Interlude]
Yo!
I'ma try this one more time
We down up in here
I want you to know-

[Verse 2]
Look, I don't f*ck with a n*gga if we ain't been cool
I ain't got sh*t for a n*gga, but Mac 10 wounds
I spit the illest sh*t, I vision it before I even pen them sentences
I close my eyes and the pen move (Yeah)
I see you n*ggas and your thin jewels
Don't make me show up to your show with like 10 goons
Light up the sour and inhale it twice
A little savage, hit a n*gga in his melon twice
Shot up the scene on his pedal bike
His trap hangin' 'round his neck, using the strings from his yellow Nikes
n*ggas went from sellin' weight to mailing kites
I'm puttin' on so when they home, I can set 'em right (Free the homies)
Who you playing with, homie? We ain't the same, you a lame
Get the f*ck up outta my lane (pus*y), you know the name
You say you got guns, it ain't a thang
I will aim, I keep Macs around me like Wayne, mothaf*cka

[Outro]
You get your bread from the shop and still be talking f*cking E. Coli
I ain't playin', yo
Yo, you wanna get f*cked up, yo?
Drive down to Arizona, get what I need
First off, work out outside, come back inside
Get you a little fever
Then take you down to Arizona
And hit my man Rico, he pullin' up on you with at least four to seven E. Coli's
Take those-
And then-
Go to the f*cking weekend