Gunsmoke Lyric by The Coup

Gunsmoke Lyric

by The Coup

Lyric:



Come On Let's Go



Put This Under Your Belt



Chorus



Smell The Gunsmoke



Repeat



I Be Having Homicide Running Through My Mind



Don't Know What's Up With Me



Shit Fuck With Me All The Time



Eating At My Spine



Motherfucka In My Prime



How You Gonna Get Yours



When You're Too Busy Getting Mine



Now Look Is This Murderous Criminal



Coming Through



If You Think It's Eroc Then The Subliminals



Is Working On You



There's Thirty Million Of Us Buried In The Fucking Sludge



Can't Come Straight From Fudge



I Got A Bloody Grudge



Dead Bodies Lying All Around Me



But The Real Murderers Ain't Never Got No Bounty



Count It Coroners As We Sitting As Statistics



With This Ass If You Think This



Blast Is Coming From My Residential District



There's Something That I Think You Should Know



Is The Motherfucking G.. From The Eastside Ho



Peep My Flow Creep By Slow



See All My Folks Is Broke



Survival For The Cautious And The Low



Get A Whiff Of My Gunsmoke



Chorus



I'm Getting White Hairs



From The Nightmares Everynight



'cause Somebody's Got A Contract



On My Life



I'm In A Gang That's In An All Out War



They Join Me In When



They Knife My Umbilical Cord



So It Begins With A Slap On The Ass



Now You In Into White People's Ass Tricks



You Here So Fast We Already Made Your Casket



While Its Got One Buck



So The Phrase Gunshot



Gets Hella Tide



Can't Take The Only Motherfuckas Getting Fried



Skeletons Deep Down In The Ocean



'cause Them Slave Ships Had That Three Stop Motion



Coasting Down Fulton On The Mississippi River



All Across This End



Motherfuckas Saying Down Nigga Down Nigga



It All Started When We Start Producing Scratch



Some Of My Homies Got No Legs Attached



Without No Food Up In The Fridge



You Ain't Go Never Have Peace



'cause With A Trigger



You Can Finger Fuck Without No Grease



Chorus



Up To The Moon



Repeat



I Say Fuck The Whole Judge And The Jury



My Mind Got Delirous



My Eyes Got Blurry



Had My Uncle Strapped To The Chair



Hands Oxtied



Breathing In Gas



Breathing Out Carbon Monoxide



Whole Systems Stacked Like A Loaded Bowel



'cause Ain't No Billionaires On The Murder Trial



Make The Ghetto Concentration Camps Every Mile



So March Your Ass Through The Gas Chambers Single File



Who's The Biggest Problem That They Show On The Tv?



More Peoples Die Starvation And Tv



See Me With An Angry Face And A Beanie



'cause My Relationship With Uncle Sam Is Steamy



Its What I've Been Through



I'm Like Sinecue



What I Got You Got To Get It Put It In You



The Ruling Class Was Cut Throat Since We Fresh Off The Boat



Show Em We Ain't No Joke



Let Them Choke Off The Gunsmoke



Chorus