"Guns For Life" lyrics

Ghostface Killah & Sheek Louch Lyrics

"Guns For Life"
(feat. Styles P)

[Ghostface Killah:]
I love my heat
Yeah
Y'all know what it is
You know it stay hot
It's a little tale about my gun
Feel the neck on that nigga
That's my homie
Uh, yo

Ayo I kept the same gun for nine years
Navy blue Glock in the blue safe right upstairs
I made sure that little nigga stayed warm
Tucked him under my pillow
In case the robbers come I gotta perform
Kiss him night night muah read him bedtime stories
Times I just stared at him
The Glock forty
His belly stay full and he on a strict diet
I feed him lead he good he at ease when fired
Go to sleep Mr. Gat
I had to do a double for two days
And this the only way I get back
Besides changing your diaper meaning your clip
Got niggas defecating in shit bags
They're full of shit

[A sample from The Friends Of Distinction]

[Sheek Louch:]
Yeah
That's still my nigga though son
I can't live without him
Special relationship with that mother fucker
You feel me right?
You feel me ghost?
Wu-Block

I knew him ever since he was nine
Now he twenty two thinking he's forty five
That nigga is live
Like to come with me everywhere when I drive
Trouble maker same time keep you alive
His ego too big he be getting pumped
I told him chill
He said it's better when you're getting jumped
No matter how you face me
No matter where you place me
Since the day that I was born I ain't have safety
He went from Y O to Staten that's real talk
He hung with puff he was with shine in club New York
Now he with me
He hurt em like Angela Jolie with them babies
I raised him up from 380s
I raised him up from 380s
I raised him up from 380s

[A sample from The Friends Of Distinction]

[Styles P:]
That Wu-Block shit nigga
Yeah

I still pour liquor after I pop bottles
Got a friend named deuce nickel the cops got him
Back then when the coke price was rock bottom
I robbed a lot of spots with him and I'm not lying
Then I got knocked with him and the cops kept him
I reminisce and get high over a lot of weapons
Got a friend named nine
Caught up in the murder one
I ain't seen him since
'Cause my man had to murder something
Homie named 38 he popped with me
And it ain't to often that he's not with me
You call him your guns
I call him my friends
Pop it off or keep it tucked
Guess it all will depend yeah

[A sample from The Friends Of Distinction]


Writer(s): Jimmy Ray Gordon
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