Оригинален текст
Chorus
Guns N Roses, hit 'em hit 'em up kid!
Guns N Roses, hit 'em hit 'em up kid!
Guns N Roses, hit 'em hit 'em up kid!
Guns N Roses, hit 'em hit 'em up!
Lil' Fame
Whenever a nigg* bleed, it lead to Guns N Roses
And a real nigg* knows is
everybody that have held had shot one
It's like a a**hole, cause everybody's got one
is gettin kinda bold
Little shorties thirteen years old, tryin to leave a nigg* cold
I'm packin my gat, and watchin my back, and ready for one
You wanna jump up, cause I ain't goin out like Willie (?)
Billy Danze
I propose a toast (YEAH) next nigg* that play me close
I'ma have your f*gg*t as* hangin off a lamp post
(SALUTE!) To my nigg* that slid and did bids
(REST IN PEACE) To them that slipped and caught clips kid
It's yo' play on the blessings
Me I send your maggot as* back to the essence
have told ya, Guns N Roses that's the path
So pack yo' gat and watch yo' ass
Chorus
Lil' Fame
Guns N Roses, no one opposes the MASH OUT POSSE
You can't stop me
I'm packin blue steel steppin with my weapon waitin for the rumble
I'm trouble, step into the concrete jungle
Foes'll hear the words from the reverand
And caught hell fkin with Fame, so now they as* gotta go to heaven
I fear no man, and I ain't Omar Epps
but I'm lettin motherfkers know the program
Too many motherfkers died on the street
That's why I tell motherfkers to back up and play me feet
Just the other day I put my man in the ground, so now
I walk around with the motherfkin trey-pound
Just for my enemies so I can blow they chest in
Cause Smith and Wesson'll have your whole family stressin
Another basket, casket closin
They put away the Guns, then here come the motherfkin Roses
Tags are promptly placed on your toes
You're just another nigg* dead, gotta go, gotta go
The game is called survival when you play it to the end
Before you go out in a blaze, may the best man win
Chorus
Billy Danze
Another motherfkin massacre, yeah, M.O.P.
Dese are the that I'm movin with G
To you snake-ass, two-faced as*
You gon' make me grip and squeeze my s**t
Lifestyles of a ghetto child
Gun over Rose, choose your weapon or pick your pose
One or the other nigg*, no doubt
You know the way the motherfkin story turns out
Only your life or you're chancin
Me I got a record like my man Charles Manson
Bill puttin on chill, you know the deal
Quicker than a motherfkin hit man will
(Another motherfkin Cadillac)
Yeah, another motherfker's family dressed in black
Whatever must be must be
Me I try to keep my s**t a little low-key
See, cause you don't know how it feels
Everytime a nigg* get killed they try to link that s**t to Bill
Mostly because I never of (kid they tryin to herb ya)
I ain't doin time for no fkin murder
Mad brothers done died on the street
I know it's crazy motherfkers that barely sleep
The color red from a hot hollow piece of lead
Salute the world and then nod your head
Chorus - (repeat to fade)