Sun’s Out, Guns Out lyrics

by

Bun B


[Hook: ItsTheReal]
Blocka, blocka, blocka
Sun's out, guns out
Blocka, blocka, blocka
Sun's out, guns out

[Verse 1: Jeff Rosenthal]
Might not look it, but I'm always down to fight
Meet you out back, no rules, just right, hardbody
My arms are noodles, manicotti
But I could beat up kids as long as they don't take karate
You want heat? Well, I'll turn it up a notch
Catch bodies like a fireman on suicide watch
Skinny as a rail, but my uzis weigh a ton
So I'm throwing more hands than a girl on VH1
Third base on your face: finger banging
Looking for a high-five, don't leave me hanging
I'm Jewish, and I pull trigs
But I'm not kosher, so I'll smoke pigs
Shoot a boy in blue; call it 'pop a smurf'
Turn you to an ostrich; put your head in the earth
I don't wanna push, so watch your f*cking manners
You think I'm Clark Kent, but I'm really David Banner

[Hook: ItsTheReal]
Blocka, blocka, blocka
Sun's out, guns out
Blocka, blocka, blocka
Sun's out, guns out
[Verse 2: Eric Rosenthal]
I take care of my girls, I'm the bird feeder
But when the weather turns nice, I got a wife beater
See me pumping iron in the streets, my arms are 9 millimeters
You don't wanna get sprayed because I'm carrying two liters
At the mall, it's going down
Call it target practice, giving out pounds
Any tools looking for trouble better watch their tone
Homey Depot the way I carry the chrome
Strapped like a baby seat in my VW van
My power pellets get you ghost the way that I pack, man
Attitude like Napoleon and dynamite in my hands
When my llamas get to spitting, I'm like "Tina, eat your ham!"
Any jokers try to step up to my camelot
Watch your mouth or you'll get touched up like Photoshop
I'm a socialist, free tickets to the gun show
Meet my pacifists: Glock 9 and Calico!

[Hook: ItsTheReal]
Blocka, blocka, blocka
Sun's out, guns out
Blocka, blocka, blocka
Sun's out, guns out

[Verse 3: Freeway]
Who is your rap Sampson, I can't flop, my pair's strong
I can't stop, like tank tops, a pair of arms
Used to set up shop on bad blocks with crack rock
Now I bring fury to laptops with rap songs
Neil Armstrong, all bars outer space
Our arms are strong, your arms outta shape
You're lightweight; I'm heavyweighted
I'm like Christmas: I'm celebrated in every state
(The sun is out) when we come out
The girlies wanna come cause the dough never run out
Unlimited bars, yeah the flow never run out
When I pull the gun out, y'all better run out
I'm a rap star with the heat out
Might sleep with your girl, but never eat out
Summertime, no doubt, arms always be out
Team Early just murdered the track, now we out
[Hook: ItsTheReal]
Blocka, blocka, blocka
Sun's out, guns out
Blocka, blocka, blocka
Sun's out, guns out
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