Texty:
Bronx The Gun Without Bullets

way My brain's a gun without bullets So sad, I can't replace the drive I had With my own blood My brain's a gun My brains are gone My brain's a gun

from the start frustration's taken all my patience i feel the walls closing each day i try to find another way my brain's a gun without bullets so sad

to smoke Pun (Get the motherfucking gun) Since [unverified] become the one wanted for a lump sum of G's Dirty rats pack gats for cheese bullets of breeze

just gotta say When me gun a-whistle it'll fly like a bird Me nah talk a fi mi guns are de words Hey, call me a (?) a gun my name John Coolfuse I hit

a mi face, cause I gun Never judge a book by di cover, dat's wrong Dis is Fat Joe alongside di Banton Hey (what about Pun? Rudebwoy, salute with your gun

enslaves me in another way, I'm like a 28-year-old runaway Mr. Barbosa, could you please put the gun away? I wanna end it like Hitler, cyanide and a bullet

Took a step back from the game, watch ya flip Did a few flips, fucked a few chicks, you can't fuck wit me Bullet to bullet baby, check the glocks Spit

pack fair Motherfuckers been in benches I'm pushin a forty thousand dollar machine sittin on fuckin twenty inches All paid out without a doubt We rumble like the Bronx

And now, Ladies and Gentlemen in your right corner Weighing in at an even 215 pounds Residing from the South Bronx Maintaning 39 wins, 40 knockouts,