[Verse: Billy Woods]
Hard liquor, cheap beer, guns and pussy
Big sign, can’t miss it, first thought
The bartender’s fine but I probably can’t hit it
Leaning in smell her lipstick, sour apple
Now I’m gaffled, like this bitch got one hell of a kick
Back in here courage comes with spare clips
Six packs, all eyes on her from cleavage to hips
No wonder that name is scrawled on bathroom walls
With the number somewhere so far as to call
Desperate measures, sniffed in stalls, guilty pleasure
In the heft of a forty-five stuck in your draws, last call
I ain’t nothing but two words, either that or get the balls after all
One more whiskey, I’ll deck her halls, I swear to y’all
If young’in bump me yeah there won’t be a brawl
Three-eighty pop like Tylenol, take his Glock
Leave the body where it falls, twist in his cases drop
My girl really lights up the place
National anthem on the jukebox
Did you peek the look on his face when the gat cocked
Realizing he got cooned by his ace, sticks smoke like a fireplace
I guessed it was detective again, she said mac ten
And that she could tell from the firing rates
You know I had to kiss her, couldn’t help but notice
The twenty-two by her waist, after hours pump actions
Stared down the barrel of hate, no suppressor
Nine millimeters worth of deep space steadied like cabin pressure
Bond throw the dub plate, the whole spot start stepping
Sweating, safety checking, quiet wars with loud weapons
Tight place save too many questions, and when they asked the directions
All I say is guns and pussy, big sign you can’t miss it
Hard liquor, cheap beer, guns and pussy
Big sign, can’t miss it, first thought
The bartender’s fine but I probably can’t hit it
Leaning in smell her lipstick, sour apple
Now I’m gaffled, like this bitch got one hell of a kick
Back in here courage comes with spare clips
Six packs, all eyes on her from cleavage to hips
No wonder that name is scrawled on bathroom walls
With the number somewhere so far as to call
Desperate measures, sniffed in stalls, guilty pleasure
In the heft of a forty-five stuck in your draws, last call
I ain’t nothing but two words, either that or get the balls after all
One more whiskey, I’ll deck her halls, I swear to y’all
If young’in bump me yeah there won’t be a brawl
Three-eighty pop like Tylenol, take his Glock
Leave the body where it falls, twist in his cases drop
My girl really lights up the place
National anthem on the jukebox
Did you peek the look on his face when the gat cocked
Realizing he got cooned by his ace, sticks smoke like a fireplace
I guessed it was detective again, she said mac ten
And that she could tell from the firing rates
You know I had to kiss her, couldn’t help but notice
The twenty-two by her waist, after hours pump actions
Stared down the barrel of hate, no suppressor
Nine millimeters worth of deep space steadied like cabin pressure
Bond throw the dub plate, the whole spot start stepping
Sweating, safety checking, quiet wars with loud weapons
Tight place save too many questions, and when they asked the directions
All I say is guns and pussy, big sign you can’t miss it
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