I Got Guns

[hook: Rob White]

Real niggas got guns in here
If you're fake on your record, better run from here (yeah)

Fuck around and get popped popping off at the mouth wit Pop music
Nigga don't confuse it

The real niggas got guns in here
If you're real in your music keep your guns in the air (yeah)

That's right, keep your head toward the sky
My mind illi can't be 9 milli, maybe 45...

[Verse 1: Rob White]

When the beat drops then my heats cock

Yep it's lock and load and what I jot explodes
Close caskets, not curtains, this is not for show
This is as real as rock and roll..

So I don't do it for rocks and Rolls's
Bitches on my cock
And bogus other shit that I done got before this

This the difference between a walk and a stroll
It's not just a car it's how I roll, can you feel that?
So when a nigga peel out, can you peel back?
If so you're sleeping on Co', where your pills at?

You must deal that ambien to yourself cause
I spill facts that's ambient of myself but
Everything in your spiel is damaging to my health..

That's why I got to flat-line you
Leave you in a hole where hip hop can't find you
None of you dance niggas in here got guns, but I do

[hook]

[Verse 2: Rob White]

I pop off wit no kickback cause I spit fact
So when YOU spit, and it's whack, I empty clips nigga, get back!

Put a couple holes in your whole persona
Look here Slickback
You ain't a pimp nigga, quit that

Whack ass whip and ya hoes ain't bringing shit back..

Except babies by OTHER niggas that hit that..

My flow's tic tac, get that?
Yeah it's fresh

But I'm saying if I spit it, then I meant that
This is that shit that brings to the front of your mind
You niggas running behind the train on THIS track

So I'm the lead car and I'm like the E.R
Seeing everybody needing help, but I leave y'all for dead
Unless you lame niggas wanna con-vert

And put the guns first

I draw heat from my head when I draw verse
But no competition means I PUT the heat to my head with every raw verse

[hook]