"Junkies Wit Gunz '92" lyrics
(feat. Goretex)
Hop out the pot spot with the bag of shit
In my left hand, so you know the right is on my dick
And that's when the dead man starts the fucking mission
Walk the path with the pathological mortician
More sick than hepatitis B complex
Got Glocks in stock so hold your tongue and check
A nigga step up I pop a shot into his right socket
Cock the Glock again and then I fire his head like a rocket
The hollow tip slips through bones and brains
The body jerks and jumps 'cause the nerves maintain
I just distort 'em and toss them into post-mortem
My trigger finger does more work than Micheal Jordan
And fuck a bulletproof vest, 'cause I bypass the chest
Instead, I aim for your head
Watch a nigga drop like a sack of dogshit
A job well done so now it's time to get the blunt licked
Kick up my feet and think about my psychosis
The cannabis blasts my brain just like a four-fifth
I'm an example of a 'gun toten bum,' fucked up on drugs
I'm a Junkie Wit The A Gun
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum"
Junkie wit gunz kid, junkies wit gunz
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum"
Dead celebrities are the junkies wit gunz
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum"
Junkie wit gunz kid, junkies wit gunz
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum"
It's the motherfucking rooten tooten junkie wit da gun
Nine Em Nem the mission with two niggas on da run
Two for the time, plus one for the trouble
I'm rhyming with the motherfucking nigga in da bubble
Pistol packin', plus your beats I'm jackin'
Nuns I'm smackin' and all those dead stunts I'm hackin'
A skee lo veteran about to go to war
The dead fuck hardcore still in the sock drawer
Tick tock... so eat my motherfuckin' cock
The tech jams forms into the ears of Mr. Spock
Or my boy Casey Stangle, I'm sick like Dr. Mangle
Our troops react and I kill at any angle
President J.F.K. I got your brain I'm Scitzo Franic
Like Mr. Manson on Night Train
The Musical mortician, lyrical magician
I got more fresh body parts than Dahmer's Kitchen
I'm lookin' for a new drug, the motherfuckin' new Snicker
I love candy like Cindy loves Carena Giver
Back to the funny farm vaping all the nuns
Eat the doody shoot I'm a Junkie Wit A Gun
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum!"
Junkie wit gunz kid, junkies wit gunz
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum!"
Dead celebrities are junkies wit the gunz
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum!"
Junkie wit gunz kid, junkies wit gunz
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum!"
In my left hand, so you know the right is on my dick
And that's when the dead man starts the fucking mission
Walk the path with the pathological mortician
More sick than hepatitis B complex
Got Glocks in stock so hold your tongue and check
A nigga step up I pop a shot into his right socket
Cock the Glock again and then I fire his head like a rocket
The hollow tip slips through bones and brains
The body jerks and jumps 'cause the nerves maintain
I just distort 'em and toss them into post-mortem
My trigger finger does more work than Micheal Jordan
And fuck a bulletproof vest, 'cause I bypass the chest
Instead, I aim for your head
Watch a nigga drop like a sack of dogshit
A job well done so now it's time to get the blunt licked
Kick up my feet and think about my psychosis
The cannabis blasts my brain just like a four-fifth
I'm an example of a 'gun toten bum,' fucked up on drugs
I'm a Junkie Wit The A Gun
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum"
Junkie wit gunz kid, junkies wit gunz
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum"
Dead celebrities are the junkies wit gunz
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum"
Junkie wit gunz kid, junkies wit gunz
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum"
It's the motherfucking rooten tooten junkie wit da gun
Nine Em Nem the mission with two niggas on da run
Two for the time, plus one for the trouble
I'm rhyming with the motherfucking nigga in da bubble
Pistol packin', plus your beats I'm jackin'
Nuns I'm smackin' and all those dead stunts I'm hackin'
A skee lo veteran about to go to war
The dead fuck hardcore still in the sock drawer
Tick tock... so eat my motherfuckin' cock
The tech jams forms into the ears of Mr. Spock
Or my boy Casey Stangle, I'm sick like Dr. Mangle
Our troops react and I kill at any angle
President J.F.K. I got your brain I'm Scitzo Franic
Like Mr. Manson on Night Train
The Musical mortician, lyrical magician
I got more fresh body parts than Dahmer's Kitchen
I'm lookin' for a new drug, the motherfuckin' new Snicker
I love candy like Cindy loves Carena Giver
Back to the funny farm vaping all the nuns
Eat the doody shoot I'm a Junkie Wit A Gun
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum!"
Junkie wit gunz kid, junkies wit gunz
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum!"
Dead celebrities are junkies wit the gunz
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum!"
Junkie wit gunz kid, junkies wit gunz
"Pistol Packing, monkey drinkin', no money bum!"
