Gunn Clapp - O.G.C.

I figured that my mental is kinda into the life of crimes

So you find, that you will get hit one time

With the shotty, cause we know that anybody is a body

So fuck around when Top D-O-G's in the zone

You be slippin' into darkness with the chrome to ya dome

Soldier boy, don’t be takin' Boot Camp for no toy

Be the first one in the hole when po-po starts to roll

On ya posse, cause we know ya posse’s punani

And forever dreaming, time for y’all to stop schemin'

Cuz if tomorrow never comes, y’all be the only ones leaving

In a pine box, cause I’mma straight shots

And I won’t stop, til all them body drop

To shots to him brain, punk trynna maintain in pain

But it’s insane how you was raised in this game

Streets is hectic, you should of been on ya best bitch

I don’t feel sorry that we had to wet shit

But sound of a tre, pound is fired

It must be tension, niggas wanna elevate

But not when nigga listens, he’s on his own

Trapped in a zone, thinkin' it’s fun

Forever stuck, project people runnin' to the Gunn

To see the one, who ass has just got done

Now tell a story, who fought back

But then clapped a dead homey, end of story

Feel and oldy took ya forty, Sluggah

From the Ville is gettin' naughty and real blessed

Many men get mingled, many get mashed

But how many times must we get up in that ass

Ruthless, whose this, coming through ya speakers

Everything is wreck, I’m on the set like boricua’s

Original, criminals, style subliminal

Gettin' rid of you, fake emcee’s, I put that ass

In critical, condition, for niggas be hopin'

And wishing, Strang' ain’t comin' up ya block

With Glock ammunition

Like lord have mercy, Starang don’t hurt me

Heltah Skeltah melt ya ass like Hershey’s

My Mac clips make niggas do back flips

Them tactics need practice, make you act as if this shit

That I be kicking ain’t for real, pack more steel

Then four wheels at the Dog Hill

Commercial rap get the gun clap

Saying we ain’t dope, when I saw ya punk ass scoping

You was on my dick til Buckshot 'got ya opin'

Too hot to handle, no I can’t stand y’all

Punk ass niggas get blown out like Orlando

(Crept and crawled, but still got swept in four)

It’s a shame, Mr. Starang, hang ya like a picture frame

Booyakah, fuck who you are, didn’t get ya name

Niggas couldn’t hang if Lisa Fischer eased the pain

And brains blow, so I say fuck this

Let my nigga Rock bring the Ruck-us

Niggas talk shit, then they leaving here on crutches

I, cock, back, relax and swing

Ringin' ears, is what the Sluggah from the Ville bring

Upon them weak crews, them can’t do me nothing

Them can’t do me nothing

Dare cross this path, gassed up and making something

Huffin', bluffin', punk in my path

Voice raise glass, and I don’t think that you can ask routes

Stand me, I bambi, ass of a wack cat, with my back half black

So whose a dandy, he, L-O-U-I-E Ville Sluggah

Coming for ya, so muthafuckas run for cover

This is another, warrior sound that goes around

And go' around, like them punks from underground

Catchin' beatdowns, they not hard to the core

They don’t really want no war, when them rays hit the floor

Now this is for me, this is what I gotta do

To let them niggas know, that ain’t no fear in this man here

But of course we know anybody die

But be sure to rely, OGC will multiply and do or die