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EasterGunn Day 4 Freestyle - Westside Gunn (Ft. Keisha Plum & Mach-Hommy)
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EasterGunn Day 4 Freestyle - Westside Gunn (Ft. Keisha Plum & Mach-Hommy)
[These lyrics are intentionally locked and left partial due to a DMCA takedown request. Please do not edit the lyrics to include the removed sections.]

[Intro: Keisha Plum]
Cleanse my hands in Holy Water
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
They taught us patience in them scriptures
Yet the streets made us vicious
Hoodie pastel, scorpion and scales
Double shots of D'USSÉ, blunt filled with Pluto
And we love to torture slow
Tried to pray that devil away
Cut his tongue, since he has so much to say
What the fuck you niggas thought?
It's Easter Gunnday

[Skit: 50 Cent]
Griselda

[Verse 1: Westside Gunn]
Ayo, hopped out the fiend rental (Skrrt)
Drug deals cover my mental, Fear of God sweatsuits very essential
TEC-12 with the silencers on 'em, you hear the whistle (Pew, pew, pew, pew, pew, pew)
Mercedes Wagens, no door, Randy Savage
East side Survivor Series, lost the coke [?] Patrick (Ah)
In central bookin', all my jewels on, it look like Virgil cooked it
My balcony is ocean overlookin' (Ah)
Ten beds, twelve baths, the red helicopter on the helipad
You hella mad, I'm rockin' shit you ain't never had (Uh-uh)
The Margiela Stella bag (Ah), Givenchys with the leather tag
Pino carrara hella fast (Skrrt), the shit'll never last
MCM Everlast, the pole Kevin Nash (Ah, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Bodies was tradition, wishin' (Ah)
I could see my niggas locked in prison again, fuck the system (Fuck the system)
Scream "Free Kutter" 'til they free him (Free Kutter, ah), carpe diem
Shootin' out the grey BM (Skrrt), tryna whip the coke on Easter (Whip)
Rose gold Patek, rose gold Jesus with my features
Skeletons, we robbin' Nieman's (Ah)
Your family had you in the casket lookin' half-decent
In Trinidad with two bitches, freaky, one Puerto Rican (Woo)
Slam the bitch like Tito Santana (Ah)
We was in the Taliban, niggas baggin' grams up (Ah)
I used to drive them highpoints up from Atlanta (Ah, skrrt)
Reclinin' in the 600, leanin' off the Fanta (Ah)
Terrell snitched on me, had a nigga in the slammer (Ah)
And JW Anderson's lunch at Dan Tana's (Ah)
I don't wanna shoot unless your shit got a banana (Brrt, brrt, ah, brrt)
Hundred round drum but I don't think you understand 'em (Ah, brrt)
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