Songtexte:
Pistol Grip Black Heart

whole hearts bleeding black, so I must go to hate the way My whole hearts bleeding black, so I must go to find a way, My Black whole hearts in half,

played rough He always cried When he told stories, he always lied A Black brother Who was missin' the cool part He had the color But was missin' the true heart

The feeling of being 12 years old and waking up in the middle of the night and somebody in yo room. Yo heart starts beating so fast you can hear it pumping

Put a bullet in (in) shoot it out, got them long horns like Texas bitch Look at my necklace, maybe hit a ngga disrespect this click My pistol grip sound

spit forty-five caliber grammar At the speed of wind makes you bleed within Crack your skull, without penetratin your skin Reign of champ official, Wu scamp with black pistols

[unverified] Sawed-off double barrel and a pistol grip Pump on my lap at all times I fill my gauge shells with nickels and dimes Thompson Center spittin' .45 slugs Black

rock from the Bronx y'all know (Chorus) I only like my shit hardcore (Bazaro, Boogie down Bronx baby) I only like my shit hardcore (Grip) On the mic, Grip

Call me psychotive but I'm bad, nigga yo And I'ma do ya bad, black And when I come, I'm bustin' up niggas to hear me, black Ya should of never let a nigga

Oh yeah, party people Here we go Party people, rock the house Ya'll want some more? Ya'll want some more? Let me hear ya say 'yeah' Let me hear ya say