Two Glocks
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Letra
(Come on, little Guppy)
Shot the crib up, I left his family in shambles
7.62 bullets will turn your shoes into some sandals
I got thirteen 'bows of crud in the rear quarter panel
And two dirty-ass cans with rubber bands around the handle
Went to 7-Eleven with your mom and bought her two packs of Camels
Stomped in an opp's teeth in the concrete and scraped off his enamel
It's two Glock 19s, I call 'em Gretel and Hansel
I'm 'bout to do my opp bad and mount his head on the mantle
Fuckin' hoes, gettin' money, that's my scandal
Backdoored the plug so many times, I done ripped off thе handle
I heard your man was talkin' shit, don't make mе make him an example
.300 Blackout will blow his back out just like a candle
I'm 'bout to use Lisa's card 'til this bitch says cancel
Threw some hard on the ground and one of my fiends got trampled
You don't even say shit, you just hop on the mic and ramble
Cash in hand is the demand, you can't get no free samples
Just left the motel, I got more tens than Hooters
Caught my opp's little brother and dropped him off of his scooter
You wanna know about the streets? Me and $kid could be your tutors
I got a hundred-bag of zooters stuffed inside your bitch's cooter
My bitch stood in the rain to catch the package, she a trooper
I got a big-ass clip in my pocket full of nine-millimeter Luger
AR 5.56 Ruger, mag longer than a ruler
I'm wakin' up to the rooster, fiends comin' off the stupor
Acting like you drive a Range? Boy, that's a Mini Cooper
Ran up in my opp's house and shot his ass on the pooper (Pffft)
I'm ridin' with a hundred oranges, you would think I bang for Hoover
Boy, I really roll with shooters, I ain't talkin' 'bout no hoopers
You didn't really buy that beat, you threw it on a looper (Purchase your tracks today)
And what you rapped on it was cap, you an all-around booster
I wasn't fuckin' with the drugs until I ran into them users
You was the man in high school and then you turned into a loser
Shit
Damn, $kid
What the fuck's goin' on, man?
This shit's crazy
$weet-T beats, bitch
The fuck goin' on?
Your boyfriend's a burger, I'll serve him Gerbers
How he doin' all this drug talk, but he a nine-to-five worker?
I'll make your bitch quit her job, she don't got to be a server
I'll take her ass down to Ksubis, now she a certified twerker
Jeffin' all damn day, you a certified perper
Sold my fiend a gram of wax for his new terp' slurper
I ride around with nickel chrome, you could call me the Silver Surfer
They just kicked me out of Top Gun 'cause I smell like Lemon Sherbet
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