เนื้อเพลง No Pistols - Twista

[Intro]
Yeah, Mobsta stiddyle
Let's ride on them b*tches
It's time to go to war n*gga
You ready?

[Chorus: Twista (Liffy Stokes)]
Don't wanna see you, with no, pistols if you ain't ready to roll n*gga
(Put down that .45)
Don't wanna see you, with no, pistols if you ain't ready to roll n*gga
(Gotta let that 40 ride)
Don't wanna see you, with no, pistols if you ain't ready to roll n*gga
(Let's do a homicide)
Don't ever wanna see you, with no, pistols if you ain't ready to roll n*gga
(You ain't ready to ride)

[Twista]
Don't wanna see you with that fo'-five unless you gon' ride
If I say you gon' die, motherf*cker I get so live
But you be procrastinatin
I think you f*ck around with pistols cause they fascinatin
You motherf*ckers ain't gon' do nothin, when you get through frontin
N*ggaz out here already know that you ain't gon' shoot nothin
End up at the Pearly Gates when they test you
Got a dirty face but what you know about a .38-special?
Sheeit - and I know them hard words make you jump
But what your heart worth when you got the Mossberg pump, b*tch?
And the shorties lookin at you like a punk b*tch
Cause you ain't makin what you claim, ain't gon' dump click
You gon' cry when you hear them bullets dumpin when them shorties come and ride on you
When the pistol click-clack
If you still alive will you really get to dumpin if you got that .45 on you?
Tell them b*tches get back

[Chorus]

[Mayz]
Once upon a time in the Chi
there was three real killers who bust guns and puff fire
They cop weight by the ki, and back up every gram
And stay ready for bustin with the pistol in they hand
I'm preachin murder like a vicious reverend
About n*ggaz who claim they shootin but ain't never seen .357's
Now what reason would you hold it for?
Put that pistol down n*gga pick that weed up, roll it up
Twist up the lye, you don't really wan' die
Stop your bloodclaat lyin, your bullets don't fly
Freestyle ain't smooth like Vidal Sassoon
I keep the (Smif-n-Wessun) with me like I'm Black Moon
Toss up the livin room, stomp through the kitchen
I caught that n*gga in the bathroom sh*ttin and pissin
What you shakin for? I thought you said you ready to ride?
Don't be comin with me if you say you strapped because I

[Chorus]

[Liffy Stokes]
I keep a P95 9-milli Ruger
You f*ckin with a shooter, quick to bloody yo' suit up
My aim impeccable, on point like a decimal
300 feet away in a tower snipin the festival
What you know about nines, and Glock .40's?
And .45's, AR-15's with the five-pound slide
30-shot clips, snub noses with the rubber grips
Wicked tecs'll put the kiss of death on your lover's lips
It's M-O-B n*gga, we quick to squeeze n*gga
AK-47's make them b*tches retreat n*gga
Like a G n*gga, I make 'em bleed n*gga
Come at me wrong and I'm bustin, that's on my seed n*gga
My war chest is filled with bullets and tecs
Ski masks, gloves and vests, so n*gga what's next?
N*gga, it's real thuggin, you a b*tch to the bone
If you ain't gon' do nothin shorty, leave them pistols alone

[Chorus]