Guns & Squares

[Intro] Yeah Uh, listen Yeah [Chorus: Bruiser Wolf] I don't play games, they scared (They scared) I get under they skin like ingrown hairs (Ingrown hairs) I used to fuck with guns and squares (Guns and squares, uh) Now it's kick drums and snares (Drums and snares, yeah) I used to fuck with guns and squares (Guns and squares) Now it's kick drums and snares (Drums and snares, yeah) I used to fuck with guns and squares (Guns and squares) Now it's kick drums and snares (Drums and snares, uh, listen) [Verse 1: Bruiser Wolf] Making adjustments to make some duckets (Yeah) Success is luscious The Smith got a rubber grip like some crutches (Like somе crutches) Proven moving, that Jennifеr Love Hewitt (Haha), correct your tone, you better Auto-Tune it (Listen) It's a lot of pussies here, pubic (Pubic) I hope I don't get the chair, I'm waiting on my ruling (Listen) All-white Forces, these Airs polluted Freestyle, I don't need pads, I ain't Patrick Ewing (Uh) My style, I got a patent to it (Patent to it) Trying to figure out how to use it Like a human potty training, been in more melees than Malaysians (Than Malaysians) This a rhyme tasing Food for thought, it's a full course, been in the gym, I'm shredded like pulled pork (Like pulled pork) Legs behind her scalp, that's head over heels It's a lot of rappers, but only one be real (One be real) Cypress Hill, for you young cats Strapped with packs, she got a hunchback, what's the hap? Middle finger in her coochie, thumb in her booty I'm trying to snap (I'm trying to snap), my fingers, that is Another jingle, my gift from me to you, Kris Kringle [Chorus: Bruiser Wolf and Sir Michael Rocks] I don't play games, they scared (They scared) I get under they skin like ingrown hairs (Ingrown hairs) I used to fuck with guns and squares (Guns and square) Now it's kick drums and snares (Drums and snares) I used to fuck with guns and squares (Guns and squares) Now it's kick drums and snares (Drums and snares, yeah) I used to fuck with guns and squares (Guns and squares) Now it's kick drums and snares (Yeah, yeah, man, drums and snares) [Verse 2: Sir Michael Rocks] I'm still fucking with the fried and foams We need Cullinans and larger homes Niggas get jelly when you 'pon the throne But we known to snatch a skeleton and all the bones The gradience, the creme de la creme, the size ten in the Timbs You wanna ride? Start sending them Benz' and them pens Get your friends and we walking them in They open up a new account, then we walking them out Ask Lil Gotti for the number to the room, who it's under? I'ma slide with a Vicky cause her eyes got the thunder I'm flying, doing sixty, almost crashed and it crumbled up Lawyer on retainer, case it's bad shit to cover up The gambles and gambles, and risks to rewards for the luck Never them, it's always us Backdoor us one time, it's always up In Française with parfaits and Balmain cups [Chorus: Bruiser Wolf] I don't play games, they scared (They scared) I get under they skin like ingrown hairs (Ingrown hairs) I used to fuck with guns and squares (Guns and squares) Now it's kick drums and snares (Drums and snares) I used to fuck with guns and squares (Guns and squares) Now it's kick drums and snares (Drums and snares, yeah) I used to fuck with guns and squares (Guns and squares) Now it's kick drums and snares (Drums and snares)