Gun In Your Mouth

For all the Charlestown bank robbers

This one's for you!

I'm a rob a bank then

I'm a bounce down south

With a smile on my face and

My gun in your mouth stick up the dope man

Y'all know what the fuck I'm about

With a smile on my face and

My gun in your mouth run your whole shit

Stash box under the couch

With a smile on my face and

My gun in your mouth

Run up in your mama's house

And air everyone out

With a smile on my face and

My gun in your mouth

Let's smoke a bundle of embalming fluid

Stick an armored car up, I'm a climb into it

All I need is an eight ball and nine to do it

I'll put the fucking driver in

The trauma unit or

I know some wannabes, sloppy with keys

With coke and cash in the crib

Probably trees

We'll get em drunk, passed out

And copy his keys open his door

Rope up his whore and then breeze

I know the time for a robbery

Is very long but it really doesn't bother me

I need to get rich

Bitch cause I'm drug sick

I got a mask, gloves, gun and a thug clique

Fuck a pig cop, faggot or a mug flick

We get away clean, we'll never be seen

And this is the American dream

So we fight for it, kill for it

Whatever it means

It's the iron man with the nine in his hand

Got my mind on my plan cause

I grind for the fam

Kick in the door waving the four-four

Run the kush and the cash

Get your ass on the floor

Ties his hands around his

Back with extension cords

He was slipping backstage at

The Source Awards

I call DMS, you call EMS, FDNY, NYPD

We get high committing strong-armed robberies

Don't matter if it's crack, heroin or trees

When the gun's in your face

You gonna open the safe

Unless you really wanna know

How a bullet'll taste

I pull hammers like double aces

My Desert Eagle's in your fucking faces

It's Billy Crystal, the fucking greatest

A really cool guy, run up on you, shoot nine

A fucking idiot, I ain't afraid to do time

Addicted to money

I ain't afraid to do crime

Addicted to pussy, X rated with two dimes

I fall asleep at night clutching the biscuit

Hiding the kilo of cocaine in

A bucket of chicken

Listen, we big earners with big burners

A bunch of murderers fuck a heater

I'll beat you to death with furniture

Throw chairs and tables, kitchen sinks

Listen bitch

We the shit, motherfucker this is it

We the real thing

We bring Scorsese to reality

I turn horrifying behavior into salaries

I jump out a helicopter and pop you

Run up on you while you're in

Burger King eating a Whopper