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six in the chamber - insane poetry lyrics

[intro: d.j. streek]
well alright y’all, yeah, it’s nineteen*ninety motherf*cking two
cyco in the motherf*cking house, insane poetry definitely running sh*t in this motherf*cker. i got the lyrical pimp emdee. i got d.j. streek, the crossfade beast, what’s up n*gga? yeah, let’s do it like this. yo cyco, jump on that sh*t

[verse 1: cyco]
stepping with the weapon kept inside of my windbreaker
the lyrical strangler with six in the chamber
i’m no stranger to the scenery of the streets
g*ngb*ngers is running the streets and rolling deep
creeping on suckers that’s slipping in the wrong set
watch your back, you bеtter watch it when you step
n*ggas is jacking othеr n*ggas for causing things
parties are interrupted by other brothers throwing swings
cops ain’t giving a f*ck, they just rolling up
out they cars with rod pumps, sweating chumps
basically i’m living the life of a survivalist
listen through the lyric
if i were you, i would just watch your back
i ain’t the one to advocate to carry a gun, son
but why get caught slipping?
i don’t know what’s worse, the cops or the g*ngb*ngers
yeah, i’m keeping six in the chamber
[chorus 1: d.j. streek & cyco]
ah, yeah, what’s up baby?
that’s the motherf*cking cyco writing that sh*t for ya
six in the chamber, haha
emdee lyrical pimp in the motherf*cking house
yeah, i’m keeping six in the chamber, haha, yeah
d.j. streek, you know the crossfade beast motherf*cker
six in the chamber
and we gonna do it like this, you better keep that (yeah) sh*t copped
aye yo, cyco run that second verse

[verse 2: cyco]
at a party on a sat*rday night cooling
streek, mike, and me, true sipping brew
listening to dope music, maxing while the party hoops
everybody’s straight bouncing with a .40 ounce
then a whole bunch of suckers rushed the gate
they was in a mob talkin’ ’bout they wanted this guap
i gotta push by a whole d*mn gang of ’em
got in my stance and started swinging with ’em
i started smiling, i backpedalled, showed ’em the black metal
sparks started coming out the end of a barrel, huh
i pull the trigger with ease
with just a squeeze, brains started plopping into the grass like cottage cheese
the rest broke with the quickness
the cops swooped on in with the quickness
but yo, who did it?
the boys in blue didn’t have a clue
i put the gat at the bottom of my shoe
and left limping like i was hurt by one of ’em
the cops beat the sucker who had a gun on him
one time, swear that every n*gga on site
in my face bit the light of a flashlight
next thing, they frisk me
they couldn’t find nothing on me yo, but it’s risky
to carry on your personal concealed weapon
in certain neighborhoods, that’s how you better be stepping
to me, stopping the violence is more than logical
but you could still find yourself in a hospital (yeah)
i’m telling you that i’m throwing up my middle finger
homies, i’m keeping six in the chamber
[chorus 2: d.j. streek & cyco]
yeah, haha, well alright y’all
yeah, i’m keeping six in the chamber
that’s right baby, haha, six in the motherf*cking chamber
yeah, six in the chamber
insane poetry in the motherf*cking house
you’re godd*mn right, i’m keeping six in the chamber
what’s up n*gga?
yeah, why would you step to a gat bust over a cop?
break it down

[interlude: d.j. streek & evil one]
yo evil, look at this fool over here, let’s go get this sucker
yeah
get yo ass out the car n*gga
get yo ass out that motherf*cker now!
punk b*tch, get out

[verse 3: insane poetry]
incident number three happened just last night
my homie got jacked at the stop light
dumb n*gga shoulda known to keep the chrome c*cked
right up on his own block the fool n*gga got got
and he was lucky he didn’t get popped
he just stood while them n*ggas took his sh*t, hops
looking p*ssed off, but feeling good he was still alive
never in his life did he think somebody steal his ride
for jack moves that proves to keep your sh*t loaded
to bust a fool ’cause i don’t trust no fool
’cause when i pull my tool you better run locc
’cause i love the smell of sulfur from gun smoke
’cause a n*gga like me likes to toss suckers
with the umbrella and khakis all cross*colors
you better take caution stepping to a stranger
’cause he might keep six in the chamber

- insane poetry lyrics

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