Merchant of War

Want you yeah yeah

Could you

Why you cuddle it a hard I sleep with the four

Official pistol gang we be the reapers of war

It doesn't mean that you're welcome cause you're kicking the door

I'm the boss why you filing grievances for

Graph writers use the thump out toys

Keep em both eyes open for them jump out boys

I will body mother******s if they pump that noise

Been down since this gold three become fat boys

Let me fall back let me take a sip at the bar

Cause vinnie in the hood like I'm fixing your car

I'm the overlord I don't need permission from y'all

I get a migraine every time I listen to y'all

Listen y'all ain't never living the best

With em hollow tip bullets spit quicker than ritz

The nine always concealed I'm letting his ************* breathe

Your body gonna be mistaken for swiss cheese

The front and the back what you want where you at

When my killers with the pistol grip pump on your lap

Where the blunt where the gat

Where the funk where the strap

When my killers with the pistol grip pump on your lap

The andol

This another hell storm point blank male born

The ambulance take you away and not care gone

Dirt ************* in a backpack full of krylon

Move rock for y'all without seeing the pylon

None of y'all could ever be on the level that I'm on

Traveling trajectories with crystals made of ion

Jeffrey hunter need to find another place to die on

I don't know what drugs y'all mother******s high on

Whoever told you you should do it gave you bad advice

I'mma put a few in you then blast you in the afterlife

You ain't even half as nice bloodier than passion christ

You want a body give me a pen a bottle and glass of ice

I'mma do it my way fi*************ng out of my male

Chase of every fine glass of wine with a latte

My music age well like it's related to shadai

Vinnie put a few shots into you like bombay

The front and the back what you want where you at

When my killers with the pistol grip pump on your lap

Where the blunt where the gat

Where the funk where the strap

When my killers with the pistol grip pump on your lap