Lyrics of ' Zip Guns (feat. The Alchemist & Knowledge The Pirate) ' by Roc Marciano

We gon' wait right here for this bitch-ass nigga (Uh-huh, yeah)
I don't give a fuck if it take all night (Uh)
Bring the drums in, Al (Uh, let's go)
Yeah

After the chain of events, where your chain went? (Where it went?)
Gotta watch the ladies you layin' with (Layin' with, watch 'em)
A nigga been had flavor, kid, but I ain't a lick
Taste this shit, this ain't no cake mix (This ain't no cake mix)
They say this biz is a snake pit, keep what you can't escape with
Can't be afraid to get bit (Sss)
I stayed in the mix, it ain't in my nature to shapeshift
The trainers is alligator skin (Alligator skin)
Huh? (Alright, alright, check this out)
I'm in the Maybach (Yep), they tryna stab me in my back (Ah)
You already know where my mind at (Where it at?)
Drive-bys in the Pontiac, body snatched
For the same price it costs wifey to get her body snatched (Woo)
Pistol whip you for shits and giggles, knock the jib loose
Leave you without a tooth to nibble (Uh)
Uh, no food, only soup on the menu (For the evil that men do, how does that go?)
My dude on the roof, he ain't bring a fiddle (Uh-uh)
The feds might've bugged the rental, we speak in riddles
Left your vehicle riddled (Blat, blat)
Your femur break easy as peanut brittle (Woo)
We got away clean as a whistle (Clean as a whistle)
I walked off and whistled
Blow a kiss at your miss at the vigil
I'm a cruel individual
Uh

All my niggas sliders, leanin' like they got that drank inside us
On that demon time like them Peaky Blinders
We the gospel, word to BeBe and CeCe Winans
Them OGs drippin' in designer
Movin' bricks of that China from NYC down to Carolina
This the major leagues, not the minors
Army fatigue with the nine inside the army linin'
Stop that serpent from shinin'
We took his head, it was all perfect timin'
The Sun and Moon, the stars was in alignment
We cleaned 'em up and that's power refinement
Yo, he ran off with the work that he got on consignment (Now, now Boogie Down Bronx, I need everyone cooperation right about this time)
Word, son
He ran off with the work that he got on consignment
We set the temperature and the climate
Called up my shooter, gave him the assignment
Yo, soon as you see that nigga, wet him like a water hydrant
Yo, I got young shooters like Kobe Bryant
For niggas actin' defiant, it's all math and science
Yo, don't get chalked, nigga, tryna line us
Know you fuckin' 'round with New York's finest
Lives get lost behind these blood diamonds
We mob bosses, so pay homage
In broad day, we gon' spray llamas
I'm in that cave with that K like Osama
Cheffin' up that yay every day, tryna stack dollars
Pirate