Artist: Twista f/ Speedknot Mobstaz Album: Adrenaline Rush 2007 Song: No Pistols Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [Intro] Yeah, Mobsta stiddyle Let's ride on them bitches It's time to go to war nigga You ready? [Chorus: Twista] + (Liffy Stokes) Don't wanna see you, with no, pistols if you ain't ready to roll nigga (Put down that .45) Don't wanna see you, with no, pistols if you ain't ready to roll nigga (Gotta let that 40 ride) Don't wanna see you, with no, pistols if you ain't ready to roll nigga (Let's do a homicide) Don't ever wanna see you, with no, pistols if you ain't ready to roll nigga (You ain't ready to ride) [Twista] Don't wanna see you with that fo'-five unless you gon' ride If I say you gon' die, motherfucker I get so live But you be procrastinatin I think you fuck around with pistols cause they fascinatin You motherfuckers ain't gon' do nothin, when you get through frontin Niggaz out here already know that you ain't gon' shoot nothin End up at the Pearly Gates when they test you Got a dirty face but what you know about a .38-special? Sheeit - and I know them hard words make you jump But what your heart worth when you got the Mossberg pump, bitch? And the shorties lookin at you like a punk bitch Cause you ain't makin what you claim, ain't gon' dump click You gon' cry when you hear them bullets dumpin when them shorties come and ride on you When the pistol click-clack If you still alive will you really get to dumpin if you got that .45 on you? Tell them bitches get back [Chorus] [Mayz] Once upon a time in the Chi there was three real killers who bust guns and puff fire They cop weight by the ki, and back up every gram And stay ready for bustin with the pistol in they hand I'm preachin murder like a vicious reverend About niggaz who claim they shootin but ain't never seen .357's Now what reason would you hold it for? Put that pistol down nigga pick that weed up, roll it up Twist up the lye, you don't really wan' die Stop your bloodclaat lyin, your bullets don't fly Freestyle ain't smooth like Vidal Sassoon I keep the +Smif-n-Wessun+ with me like I'm Black Moon Toss up the livin room, stomp through the kitchen I caught that nigga in the bathroom shittin and pissin What you shakin for? I thought you said you ready to ride? Don't be comin with me if you say you strapped because I [Chorus] [Liffy Stokes] I keep a P95 9-milli Ruger You fuckin with a shooter, quick to bloody yo' suit up My aim impeccable, on point like a decimal 300 feet away in a tower snipin the festival What you know about nines, and Glock .40's? And .45's, AR-15's with the five-pound slide 30-shot clips, snub noses with the rubber grips Wicked tecs'll put the kiss of death on your lover's lips It's M-O-B nigga, we quick to squeeze nigga AK-47's make them bitches retreat nigga Like a G nigga, I make 'em bleed nigga Come at me wrong and I'm bustin, that's on my seed nigga My war chest is filled with bullets and tecs Ski masks, gloves and vests, so nigga what's next? Nigga, it's real thuggin, you a bitch to the bone If you ain't gon' do nothin shorty, leave them pistols alone [Chorus]