Gunplay (Album Version)

Gunplay (Album Version)

Rick Ross

Run with me or run from me
The verse come the worst
It's only gonna be gunplay

Feel me nigga

I'm sittin at the table
Countin my money
Ain't where I wanna be
But I gotta few 100
Lot of talk on the street
Like a nigga crossin me, true
Well it something I gotta see

Is it how chain swang
Tied at my face
Telling lies gettin niggas wise
Tied up and raped
Similar to the mob
It's deeper than rap
All you niggas gettin robbed
At the cell phones tapped
Bullet in my head
Bullet in my chest
Yeah they want a nigga dead
Then you'll be my success
To be loved to be loved
Oh what a feeling 100 rounds in the trunk
Niggas get wacked no sympathy for the soft
Niggas snitchin I know bitches who clippin you dick off
I'm a boss champagne with the steak
Pink Rosay Jason, ace by the cake,

Brisco line two young niggas what it do?
It got a pretty sound and he wanna bring her through,
That's love we go back to the blue house,
If she badder I may take her to the new house,
My Maserati be the new body,
Got ya girls panties wetter than a pool party,
(Nigga)
I got her sleepin in the king size,
Last night I had that bitch sittin' ringside,

[Chorus]
You wanna go that route? (go there)
I been on this road before,
I know Gunplay, you know Gunplay, (yeah)
Shooting for the win but ready for the laws,
Both lines on the tip of my finger,
Yellin bring it, I, I'm swingin it, I,
Aint think bout time,
Aint think bout mine,
Aint thinkin bout dyin,

My niggas so street,
My switches so sweet,
All this money on the table,
How a nigga gon' sleep?
Speculation of my deal,
It was over ten mil,
Blowin herb, chauffeur plus home
In New Zeal through
Beat the case like Gotti we the trill murder inc,
Our race slip n slide, they rainy in the mink,
Look ten in the eye,
It's the end of the road,
In the persons Maybach,
Mean I'm gettin more doe,
Smellin christian Dior,
I used to be poor,
When ya cross Florida line,
Boy I'm your lior,
Booby boys still, booby boys real,
You can name a lot of lames that the booby boys killed,

Brisco line two young niggas what it do?
Say he got a couple kilos and he wanna bring em through,
That's love we go back to the blue house,
And if he brought enough I may buy me a new house,

[Chorus]

Gettin how I'm livin it,
Damn near dying for every digit,
I get, fuck they know bout that,
I aint never put shit on the line,
Just shit in they rhymes,
I shoot a nigga shit in the rhyme,
Them internet niggas,
These aint a threat niggas,
Never seen a laptop in the project nigga,
Just powder, cut with comet,
Fuck them comets,
Convicts aint buyin it,

If they aint coppin or fryin it,
Don't get a nigga fired up behind some fuck shit,
My nigga then what then?
(Do that)
Who's that behind the curtain I murk em,
Wizzard of Oz ass niggas,
Hidin behind money,
Hiding behind luxury,
Shootin up all that fuck shit,
It's getting ugly,
Got torch on the line
Said he got a couple nines,
Told em grab two,
Bring em on through

[Chorus]

Written by ROBERTS, WILLIAM / CARPENTER, MAURICE / ELLIOTT, LEIGH / MOLLINGS, JOHNNY / MOLLINGS, LEONARDO / MORALES, RICHARD
Published by Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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