Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Gun Smoke’ by 42 Dugg. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 42 Dugg or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
I was raised on McKinley
Keep actin’ like I’m retarded, pussy ass nigga, you know what I’m sayin’
Keep actin’ like I y’all ain’t been sendin’ me to shoot that motherfuckin’ fire, nigga
You know what I’m sayin’, every nigga that played with me died, pussy
Gang-gang-gang, big stepper, you can’t do no show in my city
Yeah, yeah, rich scale, pussy
You know we gon’ shoot them Glocks, bang off them shots and we catch ’em
I’m brought up on murder shit, that murder shit my profession (gang, gang)
I try keepin’ that shit professional but them niggas tried test me (okay)
That lil promo run you doin’ on me, get you left in the desert (promo)
I know blood gon’ shoot that fire ’cause he retarded, he special (brrat)
I know cuz gon’ take some out for me quick, why he a professional (facts)
Last nigga shot at me, that shit didn’t go successful
Free my charge partner, he got caught up with a dirty K
I’m the Godfather, know them bloods gon’ move whenever I say
Pussy nigga, I’ma stand all over you shit with this dirty Drac’ (brrt)
You know I know where your mammy stay, and where your brother stay (bitch)
I buy guns up out the store and shoot on my opps every day (brrt)
I don’t tolerate no pistol play, boy you’ll get shot in the face (woo, woo)
I just dodged my case
Murder on my, murder on my, murder on my mind
Been whackin’ niggas in the city, ‘fore I whackin’ niggas out of town
I can’t keep up with your body, you in lost and found (found)
I can’t keep up with that pussy, she in lost and found (found)
You found it yet?
He say, give no fucks ’bout what they say
Gun smoke, shoot ’em two times in the head (hrrt)
Green light, shoot that bitch while he on red (baow)
PSI, he a rat, that’s what I read (gang-gang)
First degree, you know all my opps, they dead (gang)
If they not, swear to God they gon’ be dead (I swear to God)
What you finna do?
Watch this
Go ‘head and leave some, bitch, this blow me down as you around
She probably need some, bitch, I ain’t trippin on no label, bitch
I’m doin’ fiend numbers, and I got that green comin’
Everywhere like hot spot
Shoot a nigga dead in his shit, do no drive by
Top five, dead or alive-live
Free Skeet (yeah), niggas bang but they don’t slang
I’m yellin’, “Free Meech”
Dive in her, knee deep, yeah, nigga, big fours (big fours)
I was probably out here slangin’ while you was gettin’ phones
Got a lame, sent her home, bitch you with the gang now
I don’t care who at the show, still got my chain out
Let’s hit the road, same route
75 Main South
Sell the lines, two-fifty (red)
What you need?
Gang-gang-gang, gang
Still on that murder shit (gang-gang)
Dependin’ on how good the vibe is, I might murder shit (pew, pew)
I see the opps, I turn this clean stick to a dirty stick (hrrt)
You run up on me, I shoot you down, don’t give a f*ck who you is (no)
Young nigga, he pullin’ up in this dump truck and shootin’ sticks
My chopper got a cooler kit, I’m on that shooter shit
Went against the gang, when you got hit up, you thought you was slick
I’m on that cut throat, south Memphis shit, that shit get you killed (hrrt)
How could you possibly go against me when I taught you off the rip?
I know three niggas beneath me that’s reachin’ for my chips
My cousin died, my nigga died, so I can’t slip (so I can’t slip)
I tell my bitch ‘fore she go to bed, put on that silk (put on that silk)
Can’t buy your dope from me in person, I’m gon’ ship (I’m gon’ ship)
You know this Glock on my hip come with hollow tips (brrt)
Even though I sip, the doctors told me “Do not sip,” but I still sip
I bet you this chopper make you flip, you gon’ still slip (gang-gang)
‘Fore I met T-cannon, he was Crip, and he still Crip
I bust down my AP just like Tip, it’s a field trip (f*ck Youngsta)
He say, give no fucks ’bout what they say (gang-gang)
Gun smoke, shoot ’em two times in the head (hrrt)
Green light, shoot that bitch while he on red (baow)
PSI, he a rat, that’s what I read (gang-gang)
First degree, you know all my opps, they dead (gang)
If they not, swear to God they gon’ be dead
I swear to God!