Put Your Guns In The Air lyrics

by

Birdman


[Intro: Juicy J]
Yeah what's up n*ggas
I want every n*gga out there in the crowd, in they cars
If you got .357, a 45, a motherf*ckin' Glock
I want you to put that sh*t in the air
You know I'm sayin'
Put that motherf*ckin' Glock in the air n*gga

[Hook: DJ Paul & Juicy J]
Put your guns in the air, raise your guns up
It's on tonight, somebody gon' die tonight

[Verse 1: Juicy J]
n*gga I got a .357 on my f*ckin' hip
For you f*ckin' cowards and you haters that be talkin' sh*t
When you see me hangin' on the North Side, ridin' strip
Step to a playa who pull they tones, also bust them lips
Evergreen, Watkins and Brown, all my n*ggas cliqued up
Smokey City, (?) and Henry c*ck them guns then start to buck
North Memphis playas on a hustle 'bout they f*ckin' cheese
Throw the guns high in the air when you on that green, fool

[Verse 2: DJ Paul]
I see we turn these n*ggas into killas as soon as we step on da stage
Before I grab the f*ckin mic I got these hoes in rage
I turn the soft into hard, no need for some bodyguards
I got this sh*t in control, even when a riot start
We 'bout to turn up them lights, we 'bout to hit you with mics
You put your goods in a bag and we gon' spare you your life
You f*ckin' with the wrong click, that .44 just might click
The Tear Da Club Up Thugs in here, ya heard me b*tch?
[Hook: DJ Paul & Juicy J]
Put your guns in the air, raise your guns up
It's on tonight, somebody gon' die tonight

[Verse 3: Lord Infamous]
I want carnage boy, beat you with this sword til I'm bored
Have yo mammy over there yellin' "Uh, f*ck him up Lord!"
Motherf*cker I'm demented, I ain't kiddin', b*tch I meant it
Have you ever met a n*gga that was even evil sentenced?
Left him smellin', dogs gon' come, fill 'em up with the atomics
When he spittin' up a stomach, put the slug back in his stomach
Get taped on yo mouth, pistol slapped, capped
I'll fill your death certificate out, no doubt
Cause no bullsh*t is tolerant, knock out yo Polidents
Black market intoxicants, I'm larger than metropolitans
Engaged in this room, see Tear Da Club Up Thugs the Real McCoy
Have yo shirt stickin' to yo chest like f*ckin' toffee boy
Scarecrow is the lunatic out the village of South Memphis
Droppin' pieces of your species off the beaches of Mount Talinis
Ammunition is diminished, you get faded, reduced to dust
Raise up off that barracade 'fore we bazook' ya, nuke ya up

[Hook: DJ Paul & Juicy J]
Put your guns in the air, raise your guns up
It's on tonight, somebody gon' die tonight
[Verse 4: T-Rock]
I feel so focused on my fathers fossils, check my historics
Cause I was abandoned at an unknown age and reangarred his courses
No father figurey (?) up to unifying curiosity
With the anger made by loneliness turned to a life of thuggin' logic
They carry (?) all my entourage we pushers bringin' havoc
(?) assassins of the conceptions, broke ass authorities livin' lavish
"Thou shalt not kill" is wrote in the passage, (?) have mercy
(?) slain and (?) we gain of our way of sin cause we unworthy
(?) the Henn, I slowly get me headrushed in my mind directly
(?) intelligence (?) irrelevance, smackin' hoes correctly
(?) resistance
In my hand, got a clinched face (?) existance
(?) interferences increase
In the moment of the aftermath of the bloodbath your squad has been deceased
(?) my stance
We (?) with lyrical killers from the earth, been to hell you been tranced

[Hook: DJ Paul & Juicy J]
Put your guns in the air, raise your guns up
It's on tonight, somebody gon' die tonight
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