Glocks Go Pop - Solomon Childs

Yeah, uh-huh, aoow, heh

S. Childs, you niggaz can’t see me (uh-uh)

I got on an invisible suit, nigga

And I’m by myself (that's right)

That means you try to get at me

I’m all by myself, nigga (fo'sho)

Dead presidents, with forty big bags of rubberbands

And the hood ain’t getting it I need sands and beaches, magnums

For snakes and leeches, this an original masterpiece

The motto, fire at the beast

Chicken wings and cocaine, the simple and plain

Ain’t nothing complex, tax free money

No checks, and listen I don’t talk to pranksters

Too busy breaking bread with gangstas

Or putting holes in the head of you wankstas

Niggaz inflated like silicone, a bunch of big mouth niggaz

Damn, it feel so good to be home

One o’glock, two o’glock, three o’glock, pop

Four o’glock, five o’glock, six o’glock, pop

Seven o’glock, eight o’glock, nine o’glock, pop

My guns they pop, around the clock

General with four stars, possess the power

To pimp twelve bars of knowledge, murder

Struggling neighborhood wars, some like it hot

Some of the livest motherfuckers get popped

Never who dat, bitches tell me how the pipe game

Behind making so much style, the kid’ll pimp a pair of etonics

Had the pleasure to build with the Gods

Even shared the same bowl with dogs

Brought up on the robbery, Lord of the Rings

Part three, this the hard copy

Championship, mister headline

Everybody enjoy the show and get ready to ride, come on You don’t wanna see the hammers display

Go have me call Nitty and Ray Ray

Go have me shoot up your field gate, rep Henderson and Broadway

You don’t want it, homey, gun game, knuckle game, homey

Gun flame, in the game, homey

Semi automatic with the strap

With more respect on the streets, in the late '80's than Kojak

Niggaz’ll get burnt up, like a lab worker in Iraq

Solomon Childs, extra extra, chrome nine millimeter

A/K/A Carmen Electra, feel me That’s right, out with the old, in with the new

Fo’sho…