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that dont make you a gangster - fat tone lyrics

[verse:1]

im tired of these rap cat’s rapping bout war’s, when the bullets start poppin everybody hit the floor. im from the ghetto where they tote the steal, where the rats and the roaches run around in the field.[yeah] lil n-gga i’ll show you im gutta, i got an aim like a sniper im a bad motherf-cka. one shot will make you swing and do the wop,then you shake to the ground doing the needle pop. [yeah] ya body go into a shock, somebody help this man somebody call the cops. so many holes in his shirt blood keep runnin, some old lady said some fat kid pulled up dumpin. she said she heard so many shots she thought she was hit, thats how it is in k!lla city on this mobb sh-t
[yeah] keep thinkin its a f-cking game until you see these f-cking flames blow out ya f-cking brains

[hook:x2]
you probably k!lled a couple n-ggas
(that dont make you a gangster)
probably sold a little crack
(that dont make you a gangster)
you probably robbed and jacked
(that dont make you a gangster)
bounced out with a mac
(that dont make you a gangster)

[verse:2]

nike pants on my -ss chuck taylors on my feet black gloves on my hands, mac 11 on my seat
im from k.c, where the dramas like iraq. where lil n-ggas (fourteen) ready for combat. them bullets hit ya back and start crushing your bones we touch your home, i teach you not to f-ck with tone. (yeah) i got k!llas from the n.y like double g, so when he bounce back with the tommy you ain’t surviveing me. off your feet in the air you gone rise n-gga and by the time you come back down you gone die n-gga. you lil gs better learn who you f-cking with before we come through ya block with them chops cutting sh-t.them fully auto sounds will make you sh-t all in your pants, especially when you see your homey do the murder dance.and if you make it out of icu for second round death still around the corner cowboy gone gun you down

[hook:x2]

[verse:3]

my whole team military ready for war, when the fonk crack off we get to kickin through doors
i let em have it imma savage till the day im dead, missle’s whistle from the chop and have them catch yo head.break bread before these bullets stick to your t–th, and by the time the smoke clear im turning off your street. lil n-gga you ain’t f-ckin with me, i get stone cold retarted when im bustin my heat.(yeah) i make your whole block look like a ghost town, thats how it is when this fonk season goes down. multiple rounds from a uzi caught em hideing out, the chamber c-ck back we holler “five one” then ride out. could get caught without your pepper on the next day , we pull up on your block drop the window yeah check mate. ain’t a n-gga from your block that can f-ck with tone, this k!lla city we can shoot it out right or wrong

[hook:x2]

- fat tone lyrics

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