Merchant of War

While you cuddlin a harlot? I sleep with the four
Official Pistol Gang, we be the reapers of war
It doesnt mean that you welcome cause you kick in the door
Im the boss, why you filing grievances for?
Graff writers use the thump out toys
Keeping both eyes open for them jump-out boys
I will body mother******s if they pump that noise
Been down since Disco 3, become Fat Boys
Let me fall back, let me take a sip at the bar
Cause Vinnie in the hood like Im fixing your car
Im the overlord, I dont need permission from yall
I get a migraine every time I listen to yall
Listen yall aint never live in abyss
Where them hollow tip bullets spit quicker than Rittz
The nine always concealed, Im letting this ****** ******* breathe
Your body gonna be mistaken for Swiss cheese

The front and the back, what you want? Where you at?
When my killers with the pistol grip pump on your lap
Where the blunt? Where the gat?
Where the funk? Where the strap?
When my killers with the pistol grip pump on your lap

This another hell storm, point blank mail bomb
The ambulance take you away and not Calgon
Dirt ************* in a backpack full of Krylon
Move rock for yards without seeing the pylon
None of yall could ever be on the level that Im on
Traveling trajectories with crystals made of ion
Jeffrey Hunter need to find another place to die on
I dont know what drugs yall muh*** ***s high on
Whoever told you, you should do it, gaveyou bad advice
Imma put a few in you, then blast you in the afterlife
You aint even half as nice, bloodier than passion Christ
You want a body? Give me a pen, a bottle and glass of ice
Imma do it my way, fish and edamame
Chase a very fine glass of wine with a latté
My music age well like its related to Sadé
Vinnie put a few shots into em like Bombay

The front and the back, what you want? Where you at?
When my killers with the pistol grip pump on your lap
Where the blunt? Where the gat?
Where the funk? Where the strap?
When my killers with the pistol grip pump on your lap