[Intro]
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Yeah, Mobsta stiddyle
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Let's ride on them bitches
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It's time to go to war nigga
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You ready?
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[Chorus: Twista (Liffy Stokes)]
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Don't wanna see you, with no, pistols if you ain't ready to roll nigga
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(Put down that .45)
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Don't wanna see you, with no, pistols if you ain't ready to roll nigga
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(Gotta let that 40 ride)
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Don't wanna see you, with no, pistols if you ain't ready to roll nigga
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(Let's do a homicide)
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Don't ever wanna see you, with no, pistols if you ain't ready to roll nigga
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(You ain't ready to ride)
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[Twista]
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Don't wanna see you with that fo'-five unless you gon' ride
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If I say you gon' die, motherfucker I get so live
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But you be procrastinatin
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I think you fuck around with pistols cause they fascinatin
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You motherfuckers ain't gon' do nothin, when you get through frontin
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Niggaz out here already know that you ain't gon' shoot nothin
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End up at the Pearly Gates when they test you
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Got a dirty face but what you know about a .38-special?
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Sheeit - and I know them hard words make you jump
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But what your heart worth when you got the Mossberg pump, bitch?
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And the shorties lookin at you like a punk bitch
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Cause you ain't makin what you claim, ain't gon' dump click
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You gon' cry when you hear them bullets dumpin when them shorties come and ride on you
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When the pistol click-clack
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If you still alive will you really get to dumpin if you got that .45 on you?
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Tell them bitches get back
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[Chorus]
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[Mayz]
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Once upon a time in the Chi
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there was three real killers who bust guns and puff fire
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They cop weight by the ki, and back up every gram
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And stay ready for bustin with the pistol in they hand
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I'm preachin murder like a vicious reverend
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About niggaz who claim they shootin but ain't never seen .357's
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Now what reason would you hold it for?
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Put that pistol down nigga pick that weed up, roll it up
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Twist up the lye, you don't really wan' die
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Stop your bloodclaat lyin, your bullets don't fly
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Freestyle ain't smooth like Vidal Sassoon
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I keep the (Smif-n-Wessun) with me like I'm Black Moon
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Toss up the livin room, stomp through the kitchen
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I caught that nigga in the bathroom shittin and pissin
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What you shakin for? I thought you said you ready to ride?
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Don't be comin with me if you say you strapped because I
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[Chorus]
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[Liffy Stokes]
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I keep a P95 9-milli Ruger
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You fuckin with a shooter, quick to bloody yo' suit up
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My aim impeccable, on point like a decimal
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300 feet away in a tower snipin the festival
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What you know about nines, and Glock .40's?
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And .45's, AR-15's with the five-pound slide
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30-shot clips, snub noses with the rubber grips
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Wicked tecs'll put the kiss of death on your lover's lips
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It's M-O-B nigga, we quick to squeeze nigga
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AK-47's make them bitches retreat nigga
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Like a G nigga, I make 'em bleed nigga
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Come at me wrong and I'm bustin, that's on my seed nigga
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My war chest is filled with bullets and tecs
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Ski masks, gloves and vests, so nigga what's next?
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Nigga, it's real thuggin, you a bitch to the bone
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If you ain't gon' do nothin shorty, leave them pistols alone
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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No Pistols
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Twista |