No Guns - Mean, Young, Maddie

Better watch your back / Imma make the gat clap

Whole lotta talk / Homie, this is Baghdad

You a walking dead, boy / Imma body bag that

Well you better get to stepping / Coming for your rat pack

Armed and ready / No guns but I spit flames

Don’t mess with my clique, lames

Yeah I’ve been about town on a killing spree, B

Hunting down all my victims

Imma throw shade on them haters with my shadow

From a birds eye view / Imma shoot ‘em with an arrow

Ride in a Camaro / Dancin' with the devil

One man syndicate / you messing with a rebel

Cool, calm, collected but still imma wreck it and nothing can stop it

Well that’s for the record

Make your brain shatter like paint splatter

It’s a vendetta / None do better (Nah)

I’m the king of the crown

So what you gonna do bout it now?

Get the fuck out of town

See imma hold it down

Keep my feet on the ground

When I fire these rounds

Lion City Axe Gang

No guns but we bang bang

Gun shot to the head when I spit that flame

Imma bring that game

So you better not miss that aim

Better not miss that aim

So you better not miss that aim

Miss that aim

Better not miss that aim

So you better not miss that aim

Miss that aim

Run motherfucker run

I’m taking lotta shots / Got no fucking gun

And I’m aiming at your rear view with my iron sight

These bars pack a lotta punch / Call me Iron Mike Tyson

Now you gotta die, son

Left, right, uppercut / Call me M. Bison

But I am no bi-son

You claim to be fire but I don’t see light, son (sun)

Switch up my flow and start rapping like this

If you don’t know me well, keep my name outcha lips

Eyes filled with junk;

still I shoot and don’t miss

If you mess with my biz, don’t mind handling beast

Oh, stole that Kendrick flow but I hope that blonde bitch knows

Not to mess with my crew

Just ‘cos we keeping it cool

We ain’t afraid of you

This ain’t Juice / We don’t fist fight, just step in the booth

We provide the landscape for you architects

But should the base crack, rebuild it back

What you thought I ain’t gon' say shit

You want beef;

now you got the kitchen burning, bitch

How many motherfuckers have I seen in the scene?

And 8 years later I ain’t even know where they been

So better check the resume ‘fore you want war

I fucking hate the drama but boy

I kill for my brothers and die for my fam

I came for the love / I don’t wanna make fans

I done did it proved it all before

Wave a black flag and it’s still 2−4-1−9

So, Keep it out your mouth

One time and we represent proud

The guns not loaded but we banging out loud

When the bell rings, its knock out in this bout

Motherfuckers take shots but they can’t aim

Wanna step up to the block with no game plan

I’m the pilot on this airplane get the fuck out my cockpit

Fuck a template, everyone’s on that Drake shit

What you know about the struggle?

What you know about the route that we took to even get to the hustle

Point your barrel at me, hold it with a clenched fist, pull the cock back take

a shot now homie

I’ll jam the trigger

Like snakes you slither, what a sad sight looking worse than a leper

The death of .XS, motherfucker please…

Imma scoop the game up like a pelican’s beak

I’m holding down the planes where the seraphim sits

NVMBR hold it down where the energy meets

You rallied up your boys, didn’t last for a week, now you both got beef,

what a fucking joke homie

I don’t care no more, I don’t even really wanna rap no more

I stand still even when the curtain calls, this is not even a metaphor

Fuck the face of rap up in sing city

Put my man mean up there ‘cos he held it down, really

The media plays based on personal taste, man they better go brush up on their

history

.XS got it locked down with a skeleton key

Salute the deck boy where the generals be

Imma take shots, No, take shots, come at me

Shells on the ground, who wanna pop next?

Really?

Don’t let your tongue slip;

you got a gun with no clips?

We ‘bout that big trees you only bout to plant seeds / Truth

Proof / Poof!