Lyrics:
Little Under The Gun

Grill me in the club 'cause they can't ball Hate shot callers, hate them ballers Back in control, now I call orders It's no fun fleeing under the gun

blatant You hesitatin', I'm in your mama crib waitin' Duct tapin', your fam destiny, lays in my hands Gat lays in my waist, Francis, M to the iz-H phenominal Gun rest under

Get box-cuttered Count how many bad honeys I slutted It's a high number Name a nigga under The same sky That I'm under Who gets money, remain fly Yeah

race with a car you won't catch up And the twista kinda wicked when I spit it now I be choppin' up cheddar with Kanye Chop a little cheddar up with Jay

too young for this" Look, I don't curse but in this verse man, fuck the world I lost my father to a gun and made a little girl And I'm still thuggin'

was tight I know she felt me watching but was scared to look my way I know she wants to look, but I think I got her shook Under pressure, don't know

I bust, and they drop to their death Now they done up, gun up, hunt my blunt up Creepin' 'til sun up, feelin' slightly shady Call me lightweight crazy, number one nigga little

land on them nuclear morgue I watch when they all come stormin' So when my one hit 'em up they fall Let off wid' a little frustration bust my gun Bullets

And tha haters can't stand it They can't believe it Bone Thugs~N~Harmony (Ha ha ha, goddamn right nigga) Ruthless Records What, what rest in peace Little