Gun Metal Remix by Trigue Lyrics
Verse 1
He was running, he was ducking, he was diving, he was huffing/
He was breathing kind of hard, he kept it pushing they were coming/
On his tail with the thunder – what the footsteps sound like/
Sixteen and under – just some “Young Niggas” Pac life/
Him against the world, ducked into the alley/
Saw it on the ground covered in trash from Rally’s/
Rusted, 9mm with the serial scratched/
And the barrel was packed up with mustard/
It talked, “Nigga, come and pick me up/
I’ll give you all type of love if you fix me up”/
Kid grabbed it, the crew in pursuit was near/
They beat his ass everyday going back for years/
God damn, gun said, “Point me, boy/
I’m a dangerous motherfucker, never been a toy/
Look, they see me and they running for room/
Them little bastards is scattering and ain’t even have to go boom”/
Hook
Boom x 8/
Hidden in the corner, it was black on black/
In the army jacket lining, it was black on black, it went/
Verse 2
Tucked it in his waistband after the crew ran/
Stood a little taller like his shoes had lifts/
Hid it in his closet by the scuffed up kicks/
Tried to keep it quiet but the gun still whispered/
Talkin’ bout, “Come on now, polish me up boy, wipe me down/
Stop by Target cop a couple rounds, and I’ll show you how to really bring the party down”/
Boy listened and listened close/
Copped a couple clips and loaded the toast/
Wasn’t sure ‘bout the road, but he kept the stroll/
Hit the bodega, walked to the back of the store/
Gun said. “We ain’t buying this, we taking it, we taking it/
We walking to the register and breaking it, we breaking it/
You point me at the manager do it and do it soon/
Hope he moves cause I’m itching and aching and shaking to go boom”/
Hook
Verse 3
He was feelin’ kind of fresh and his pocket was stretched/
He made 600 dollars in a single breath/
Bought some black hi-tops and a sack of the best/
Took a puff, but the pistol wasn’t ready to rest/
It was restless, anxious for something to test it/
Cocked and on edge with a hair-trigger, nigga/
Brand new laser sight to guide the chest hits/
Fuck gun range, it needed flesh to rest in/
The bullets, that is, the gun said to the kid/
“I know a spot to hit a lick and avoid the bid”/
Kid tucked him back in the back of his jeans/
Snuck out the window, crept off to the scene/
When he got there some cats jumped out of the blue/
They were the ones from before who used to chase the dude/
All had gats and the boy’s pistol knew/
He said, “Meet my fam, we all loaded and ready to go boom”/
Hook
He was running, he was ducking, he was diving, he was huffing/
He was breathing kind of hard, he kept it pushing they were coming/
On his tail with the thunder – what the footsteps sound like/
Sixteen and under – just some “Young Niggas” Pac life/
Him against the world, ducked into the alley/
Saw it on the ground covered in trash from Rally’s/
Rusted, 9mm with the serial scratched/
And the barrel was packed up with mustard/
It talked, “Nigga, come and pick me up/
I’ll give you all type of love if you fix me up”/
Kid grabbed it, the crew in pursuit was near/
They beat his ass everyday going back for years/
God damn, gun said, “Point me, boy/
I’m a dangerous motherfucker, never been a toy/
Look, they see me and they running for room/
Them little bastards is scattering and ain’t even have to go boom”/
Hook
Boom x 8/
Hidden in the corner, it was black on black/
In the army jacket lining, it was black on black, it went/
Verse 2
Tucked it in his waistband after the crew ran/
Stood a little taller like his shoes had lifts/
Hid it in his closet by the scuffed up kicks/
Tried to keep it quiet but the gun still whispered/
Talkin’ bout, “Come on now, polish me up boy, wipe me down/
Stop by Target cop a couple rounds, and I’ll show you how to really bring the party down”/
Boy listened and listened close/
Copped a couple clips and loaded the toast/
Wasn’t sure ‘bout the road, but he kept the stroll/
Hit the bodega, walked to the back of the store/
Gun said. “We ain’t buying this, we taking it, we taking it/
We walking to the register and breaking it, we breaking it/
You point me at the manager do it and do it soon/
Hope he moves cause I’m itching and aching and shaking to go boom”/
Hook
Verse 3
He was feelin’ kind of fresh and his pocket was stretched/
He made 600 dollars in a single breath/
Bought some black hi-tops and a sack of the best/
Took a puff, but the pistol wasn’t ready to rest/
It was restless, anxious for something to test it/
Cocked and on edge with a hair-trigger, nigga/
Brand new laser sight to guide the chest hits/
Fuck gun range, it needed flesh to rest in/
The bullets, that is, the gun said to the kid/
“I know a spot to hit a lick and avoid the bid”/
Kid tucked him back in the back of his jeans/
Snuck out the window, crept off to the scene/
When he got there some cats jumped out of the blue/
They were the ones from before who used to chase the dude/
All had gats and the boy’s pistol knew/
He said, “Meet my fam, we all loaded and ready to go boom”/
Hook