Guns Blazing (drums Of Death Part 1) Lyrics

Guns Blazing (drums Of Death Part 1) lyrics

Styles like Al Pacino

Reno until the carcelino

The mad dino with the
cambino, the gambino

Digger than Jim COlisemo

More reservoir dogs than
Tarantino

Scales for Venezuela, Brown as Ni O

Making the block hotter
than Jalepe OS

G. Luciano

Be wettin' shit like piesce in
"Casino"

Fifty dollar cigar seer

The cosnia, the mafia

Don P. like
Garcia

Drug Czar and the baby-Pah beater

The M-8 behind the
bar-freer

The poughkenoughs, the panama skier

Down with the
parmesan

Ready to comb like Vietnam with arms

'Cause the hollow-points
and phenomenon

The cheddar-spreader

The killer with the gold
Carretta

N-Leader

The sweater-letter with the hollow
letter

Drama-setter

The patmeretta gettin' redder kids and
mamma

Shredder

Infra-red clow off the armour better

The godfather,
the problem solver

Coming through with the 6 shell revolver

Hot as
lava

Guns skills that reel and in the 'ville I be the barber

Gangster
saga, the motha-fuckin' face carver



Drums of death hold your
breath

Give you a dose of shit that's dope as soda

The underworld
family cosa-nostra

Pearl-handle inside the shoulder-holster

G. Luciano
with a click but nothin' but N-S & Chicanos

You get hit up like
Castrelano

italiano like crime familia

N- don't get familiar

Me and
my goons might have to kill you

Up in New York

We play bloodsports at
home court

And hold down forts

Soon as ya caught, get your dome
torched

G Rap and Dj Shadow leave your bone squashed

Squeeze the chrome
short, take no shorts

We judge and jury in the home court

Give you the
clown corpse dead on the sidewalk

Surrounded by mad pedefors

Your whole
frame laid in the white chalk

You got the smoking section

First-class
tickets to resurrection

Forever destined to a place where N-S never rest
in

Headed in hell's direction

Lost at the crossroads and
intersection

Should've wore a vest for chest protection

Slug fill you
to capacity, someone at the dance

Someone with the hand velocity of Butch
Cassidy

Bitch N- with the audacity to blaspheme me

Got yourself caught
in a motha-fuckin' tragedy



Drums of death