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Artist: CunninLynguists f/ Sheisty Khrist 
Album:  Dirty Acres 
Song:   Gun 
Typed by: 
"No one held a gun", what you lying for? 
Then tell me how somebody got left lying cold 
"Gun", heard the 45's let go 
Next week somebody's riding slow 
"Gun", what you lying for? 
Then tell me how somebody got left lying cold 
"Gun", somebody that you or I must know 
And next week somebody's riding slow 
"No one held a gun" 
[Verse 1: Kno] 
Check it out, uh, it's hard to get 'em to freeze 
A hundred-twenty-three degrees and the breeze 
Is full of glass particles that blast hard at you 
Show us your hands and show us the plans 
The weapon's biological so show us the cans 
We got a tip from snitches for ballistic positions 
Don't wanna listen? We putting these missile tips in ya kitchen 
We got the ether for Haditha, the sutures for Fallujah 
State police force suits and boots is in ya future 
Won't loosen the nooses, put ya dick in the ground 
Chief of police is tired of all this Roving and Dicking around 
Goose chasin like ridiculous clowns 
But the American public's lustin an evil puppet so fuck it 
He says he has a wallet, I say he has a gun 
Reagan gave him both back in 1981 
Now we back with a badge just to grab all the funds 
Buckin forty-one at you and your sons, yeah 
[Verse 2: Sheisty Khrist] 
Yeah, they got, the eye of Jesus sittin on the skies of Giza 
They lie and freeze us in our time of leisure 
Hermapha, a Bush and Dick on every Condoleezza 
Nigga, y'all eye the skeezers, I eye the Caesars, haha 
And I ain't talk bout the place you play Blackjack 
But CIA headquarters where they make the crack at 
The CIA headquarters where they make the gats at 
The real School of Rock crack, fuck that cracker Jack Black 
Police force got Tenacious D 
Pull you over for your plates, place an eighth of C 
Then, that eighth of C will have you placed on the sea 
Alcatraz or Guantanamo, aching to see 
They, they lock you up in a cell with no lights in it 
Feed a nigga white bread with no fucking life in it 
No toilet bowl, just a hole so you can wipe in it 
A tormented soul till you grow old and ripe in it 
Play your hand till the right suit fold 
Bin Laden got Bush in a knight suit mode 
Most niggas that I know like Nike swoosh gold 
Wipin twenty-inch vogues on a white coupe Old 
Diallo, forty-one shots, nineteen hits 
In a dark hallway make the light seem lit 
I guess they saw a rapist on white cream tits 
Don't pull your wallet out nigga, run 
These motherfuckers got guns