Guns Blazing (drums Of Death Part 1) Lyrics - Singles - Uncle

Styles like Al Pacino 

Reno until the carcelino 

The mad dino with the cambino, the gambino 

Digger than Jim Colisemo 

More reservoir dogs than Tarantino 

Scales for Venezuela, Brown as Ni O 

Making the block hotter than Jalepe OS 

G. Luciano 

Be wettin' shit like piesce in 'Casino' 

Fifty dollar cigar seer 

The cosnia, the mafia 

Don P. like Garcia 

Drug Czar and the baby-Pah beater 

The M-8 behind the bar-freer 

The poughkenoughs, the panama skier 

Down with the parmesan 

Ready to comb like Vietnam with arms 

'Cause the hollow-points and phenomenon 

The cheddar-spreader 

The killer with the gold Carretta 

N-Leader 

The sweater-letter with the hollow letter 

Drama-setter 

The patmeretta gettin' redder kids and mamma 

Shredder 

Infra-red clow off the armour better 

The godfather, the problem solver 

Coming through with the 6 shell revolver 

Hot as lava 

Guns skills that reel and in the 'ville I be the barber 

Gangster saga, the motha-fuckin' face carver 

Drums of death hold your breath 

Give you a dose of shit that's dope as soda 

The underworld family cosa-nostra 

Pearl-handle inside the shoulder-holster 

G. Luciano with a click but nothin' but N-S + Chicanos 

You get hit up like Castrelano 

italiano like crime familia 

N- don't get familiar 

Me and my goons might have to kill you 

Up in New York 

We play bloodsports at home court 

And hold down forts 

Soon as ya caught, get your dome torched 

G Rap and Dj Shadow leave your bone squashed 

Squeeze the chrome short, take no shorts 

We judge and jury in the home court 

Give you the clown corpse dead on the sidewalk 

Surrounded by mad pedefors 

Your whole frame laid in the white chalk 

You got the smoking section 

First-class tickets to resurrection 

Forever destined to a place where N-S never rest in 

Headed in hell's direction 

Lost at the crossroads and intersection 

Should've wore a vest for chest protection 

Slug fill you to capacity, someone at the dance 

Someone with the hand velocity of Butch Cassidy 

Bitch N- with the audacity to blaspheme me 

Got yourself caught in a motha-fuckin' tragedy 

Drums of death