Guns N Roses lyrics

[Hook]
Guns N Roses, hit 'em hit 'em up kid!
Guns N Roses, hit 'em hit 'em up kid!
Guns N Roses, hit 'em hit 'em up kid!
Guns N Roses, hit 'em hit 'em up!

[Lil' Fame]
Whenever a n*gga bleed, it lead to Guns N Roses
And a real n*gga knows is
Everybody that have held had shot one
It's like a as*h*le, cause everybody's got one
n*ggas is gettin kinda bold
Little shorties thirteen years old, tryin to leave a n*gga cold
I'm packin my gat, and watchin my back, and ready for one
You n*ggas wanna jump up, cause I ain't goin out like Willie Lump Lump

[Billy Danze]
I propose a toast (YEAH) next n*gga that play me close
I'mma have your faggot ass hangin off a lamp post
(SALUTE!) To my n*gga that slid and did bids
(REST IN PEACE) To them n*ggas that slipped and caught clips kid
It's yo' play on the blessings
Me I send your maggot ass back to the essence
n*ggas have told ya, Guns N Roses that's the path
So pack yo' gat and watch yo' ass
[Hook]

[Lil' Fame]
Guns N Roses, no one opposes the MASH OUT POSSE
You can't stop me
I'm packin blue steel steppin with my weapon waitin for the rumble
I'm trouble, step into the concrete jungle
Foes'll hear the words from the reverand
And caught hell f*ckin with Fame, so now they ass gotta go to heaven
I fear no man, and I ain't Omar Epps
But I'm lettin motherf*ckers know the program
Too many motherf*ckers died on the street
That's why I tell motherf*ckers to back up and play me feet
Just the other day I put my man in the ground, so now
I walk around with the motherf*ckin trey-pound
Just for my enemies so I can blow they chest in
Cause Smith and Wesson'll have your whole family stressin
Another basket, casket closin
They put away the Guns, then here come the motherf*ckin Roses
Tags are promptly placed on your toes
You're just another n*gga dead, gotta go, gotta go
The game is called survival when you play it to the end
Before you go out in a blaze, may the best man win

[Hook]
[Billy Danze]
Another motherf*ckin massacre, yeah, M.O.P
Dese are the n*ggas that I'm movin with G
To you snake-ass, two-faced ass n*ggas
You gon' make me grip and squeeze my sh*t
Lifestyles of a ghetto child
Gun over Rose, choose your weapon or pick your pose
One or the other n*gga, no doubt
You know the way the motherf*ckin story turns out
Only your life or you're chancin
Me I got a record like my man Charles Manson
Bill puttin n*ggas on chill, you know the deal
Quicker than a motherf*ckin hit man will
(Another motherf*ckin Cadillac)
Yeah, another motherf*cker's family dressed in black
Whatever must be must be
Me I try to keep my sh*t a little low-key
See, cause you don't know how it feels
Everytime a n*gga get killed they try to link that sh*t to Bill
Mostly because I never of (kid they tryin to herb ya)
I ain't doin time for no f*ckin murder
Mad brothers done died on the street
I know it's crazy motherf*ckers that barely sleep
The color red from a hot hollow piece of lead
Salute the world and then nod your head
[Hook] - (repeat to fade)