Guns

[Verse 1: Trae Tha Truth]
Guns talk, killers breathe
Heavy metal got me raining lead
Won't roll up near ya, somewhere covered in red
People sick of pain so they playing dead
AK-47, I ain't never scared
"Put it down" be the words you ain't never said
Take less than a second how this shit go
It's a dead end road, can't get ahead
Ya ever heard 10 shots calling for ya like, "wake up!"
Now you in the grave, how the fuck you finna wake up?
Must've forgot the whole scene got taped up
Playing with heat, the whole scene got baked up
So I'm bent up in the seal looking at it
Pictures so clear but it's painted dramatic
Niggas run up, leave you smoking like addicts
With bullets so rapid, they sounding like static
Guns make half of the people I know feel invincible
Covered in black, now they feeling invisible
No hospital but condition is critical
Guns; everybody ain't meant to have 'em
When under pressure, any coward grab 'em
Lay open fire then let ya have 'em like, "Damn"

[Verse 2: Caskey]
Down south like the Wild West
Bullets hit your entire chest
Some struggle to digest
But I seen the trouble, tried to buy a vest
I'm rolling 'round with these reptiles
Dropouts, stepchilds
Who got no love for they old folks
And try to rob tourists at Wet 'n Wilds
And that's wild
Very few of them vile
This the birthplace of racism
So these black folks here don't smile
And these white folks set flames to crosses
With ignorance that they sprayed across it
Watch close who you talk to
'cause everybody here that you talk to got…

[Hook: Caskey]
Guns
Ah, that ain't nothing strange
You should keep your cool
'cause these right hips contain (bang)
Guns
Down south, folks get off
You just came with that one-two
And that kung fu, better get lost
These guns (bang)
Some will need survival
Some just tryna flex
Some just like they rifles
These guns (bang)
Everyone here got 'em
That could be a problem
But I know what could solve it
These guns

[Verse 3: Caskey]
Revolvers 'round here ain't nothing new
Even toddlers in back roads
Of these wild cities been known to shoot
My old man loved the gun range
More than church, and on Sundays
Had a mac-10, shotguns
Desert E's, and this one K that I never shot!
That beretta taught me that lead is hot
As a kid, shot at this coke can
With a BB gun in an empty lot
That was till I was old enough
Now it's under my bed and not
Cold enough, shit hot
Anybody could get got
'cause they tryna eat
And who am I? I'm just tryna sleep
Was always told that the loudest mouth
Will never be the type to let the fire speak
As a child, I'd be sitting at home
Pops upstairs, 'bout to get the chrome
For a kid my age, 'bout to split the bone
All 'cause he ain't know, that my pops had...

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Caskey]
55 year-old neighbor
Old man, he was pistol totin'
Liked to sit on his back porch
Smoking loud, sip Coronas
Waiting for the next man to slip
Used to keep the grip on his hip
38 snub nose draw
You know how it's small and gon' fit
Everybody wanna be raw
Nobody wanna get hit
I've done seen thugs turn soft
When they parallel to the clip
You don't gotta tell me shit
I done seen it all, from the stick up draws
Young kids getting it raw
My old man sippin' the sauce
Clickin' it off safety
Dare someone 'round here try break me
Act big, get tough, then take me
Out of my zone, innovative, but they got bad information
Rifles in Lakeland
Pistols with Jamaicans
Even get a grenade, used to keep the blade
But these days, can't nobody stop these guns!

[Verse 5: ClicKlak]
ClicKlak;
Sound effect of that strap
The first gun I ever owned
Was a 38 on my lap
I was 15 with a new revolver
And a pocket full of them racks
Had a sweet connect in high school
He fronted me and I brought it back
'member, Pablo?
That 22 that you got me?
It held 9 and it saved my life
When them fuck niggas tried to rob me
And I let loose
Yeah, I caught 2 with that 22
This real life I'm telling you
This what the fucking mind of a felon do
And I'm like 'member, Baxter?
That 4-5 with them big slugs?
Got caught slipping at the strip club
Broke into my car and they took her
And I'm like 'member, Fatboy?
That shoot out in Lake Mary?
Kept ya mouth closed and you wasn't scared
Did ya time and I know ya feel me
Fuck nigga, don't ask me
If Caskey ever blast heat
Especially when I'm riding with him
Like a passenger in a taxi
With loaded pistols in the back seat
In all black in these back streets
This Keep Pushin' from Bokey
Been shooting shots like Stephen Curry
I'm bumping Scooter and a sharp shooter
In all red, Carlos Boozer
No bullshit, just full clips
And I'd hate to really have to do it to ya
Hit Dre Fresh, tell him call the west
Ask Gwalla if I could use the tech
Bang Yonka Boi, tell him load the stick
Out front ya house with these guns, bitch
Hey!