That's Why I Carry

Man, all these muthafuckin' niggas out here...

Man, you know what I'm sayin'?

Everytime I try to go somewhere

I got plex from these lil' sorry, punk, pussy, no good hatin'

You know what I'm sayin'?

Every single day, man... Start shit, man

I get lot a plex on these streets, baby... know what I'm sayin'?

I'm lookin' at H-Town's North and the Southside doin' it.

In P.A., you know what I'm sayin', in Port A, 'cause you know...

Even the East coast and the West coast got the plex, man

Man, y'all bettah keep yo' distance, man

I'm tellin' you it's real.

My nigga, you done pushed the wrong button

I ain't never ran this hot.

Now you the number one nigga

I wanna whoop the piss out.

And this not a threat, bet that

I ain't gonna let that slide,

Gotta get that bitch right,

Want him dead by midnight.

I followed him from his crib to the crack spot;

I watched him go in and come back out

I got ready to pull the Mac out.

Sandwiched him by the feeder of 610,

Unloaded the pistol, now dirt is now what his dick in.

Shit, I seen a slab get stripped:

The discs, seats, and sound gone,

And candy paint burnt to a crisp.

These niggas gettin' hated on

For the '84s that they skated on.

Jackers in the dark alley waited on

The fool comin' out the gamblin' shack

Pistol to his back, took 4 ounces of crack,

And a fat dozier sack.

That's why I pack, my nigga

That's why I pray, 'cause where I stay

I got to carry my muthafuckin' gun every single day.

Chorus: (4x)

Motherfuckers wanna start shit in every way

That's why I carry my muthafuckin' gun

Every single day.

The p-l-e-x is crowdin' all my space;

'Bout to pop this muthafuckah 'cause he standin' in my place.

He sellin' on my block,

Jackin' from my boys,

They comin' on our side throwin' down and talkin' noise.

Now, I occupy my time hustlin' and gettin' paid.

He occupyin' his time tryin' to get boys for they Blades...

Gettin' 'em for they Chevy 'Burbans.

They jumpin' out a who doos

Comin' down swingin', jumpin' out of candy blues,

Talkin' 'bout give it up smooth.

Baby boy, it's some hatin' goin' on in P.A.,

Mostly over stanky bitches, and who sold the most yay.

Niggas stuntin', pullin' pistols endin' up in the grave.

When I pull I always pop, that's why I'm livin' today.

Girl-ass niggas causin' plex between friends;

And, when you bust on your boy,

Don't neither one a y'all niggas win.

You end up killin' somebody that you ain't really ain't wanna kill

Over a pussy-ass nigga that's showin' ho-type skills.

Chorus: (4x)

Comin' from the small town of madness

Late night us all murd'rers

Playa-hated, scandalous hoes, and 'Lac-drivin' slab hurters,

Acted bad after 8.

You can catch us on the late,

Rollin' dice, blowin', and sippin' on the bar straight.

We got the red drank, orange drank, purple drank

Laughin' at these mark hoes

That say they never heard a drank.

Half-gallon Big Gulp, Big Red, big cup, drink mixed up,

Blowin' sweets, and lightin' sticks up.

Now, in my new world slow down I can see

Niggas talkin' shit,

Tryin' to see if what they said got to me;

But, hoe-wearin' type of skills say a lot to me.

You jus' gon' fuck around and get yourself shot to be, or not to be.

Muthafuckas plot to see me crack

Under pressure so they just impress a nigga to see me react.

These niggas try to stare me down like a scary clown.

Don't dare me, 'round

Here we fuck your game up like Larry Brown;

And, carry pounds a killer 'round like groceries,

With a prescence that make you not

Wanna stand close to me.

Talkin' 'bout we supposed to be brothers

Don't make me laugh, muthafuckers, you chose to be

On the side opposin' me.

Don't matter what coast ya' be from

Bun and C 'll light your world up explosively.

Chorus: (x12)

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