...One Rifle Per Family
Producer: Karman

Verse 1:

A murderer fighting the urge

Serve the people I prefer

But cross that line and a mac tec-nine finna bur bur burr

Especially if it's a pig

Out there bullying kids

Heisenberg when I write these words

In the lab, we're cooking that shit

Hollow-tips will leave 'em stinkin

These phonies out here on a mission

Close I'm living dependent on somebody else like Jesse Pinkman

Philippines all in my blood line

A Southeast Asian, who can run rhyme

Club light up like it sunshine

When I run inside the venue and I don't mind

Pop a DJ through his laptop prop

Fire on beats so the mix don't stop

Carmen hop on the turntable and let that 808 kick (d-d-drop)

Native Gun 'till I'm deceased

Black Chuck T's on my feet

Sound killer, pour out a little liquor

Diamond supply -

Holding up beef with crooked police

All in they face, don't ever retreat

Southern Khalifa whenever I speak

Might call you homes, as part of my speech

Money ain't never that far out of reach

Found me a stage and give me a beat

Tell that promoter C-Knowledge is holding up peace

Make sure my money complete and I...



I walk around the street with a black tech 9

On the waistline, kicking that hype shit

I walk around the street with a black tech 9

On the waistlean, kicking that hype shit


Verse 2:

Bout a hundred push ups in a day

Or one hundred for every day

Palms out, pull-up bars, dead hang, pull up again

Healthy food all in my body

Metal all over my shotty

"Ooh there go them flips again"

Whenever I'm up in the party

Proudly a gang of them Soul Assassins up in here

Girl scout cookies smoke all in the air


Yeah yeah yeah yeah

Los Angeles that's where I'm from

I'm used to that smog in my lungs and scream the trills

Watch me go punch, Mack 10's

Of the thirty I six

Mac buggy you should run that shit

Bust that shit, rifle go pop-parap-pap-pop

I love that shit

Family man with a defense mind

Take an ice pick, imma defend mine

Offer the masa when I kick them rhymes

Well I sign, salute with a visit in the sky and a grip in your back

Kids in the back, microphones up, put a slit in the flag

Propaganda shit to the max Bam

Leanin, purple codeine is not what I'm meanin

When I'm leaning

The balance of power is not balanced it's tilted, leanin



Shit got me turned all the way up homie

We broke, starving

Healthcare ain't accessible

Education ain't relevant

Politicians fighting about people in love wanting to get married

Tryna to keep dominion over a woman's body

Shit got me bogged down

Real problems get pushed aside

Keep me high


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