Released: September 30, 2013
Songwriter: VIC MENSA
Producer: Michael Uzowuru
[Intro]
Yeaaah niggas ain't never lackin out here cuh, never, where ever, whenever! You think they stopped making guns when they made yours? Pussy I got slam!
Innanet, Innanet
[Hook]
I don't need to worry 'bout nothing I'm good (How you doin')
I don't need to worry 'bout nothing I'm good (How you doin')
I don't need to worry 'bout nothing I'm good (How you doin')
I don't need to worry 'bout nothing I'm good (How you doin')
I got yap yap
Slam
I got yap yap
Slam
I got yap yap
Slam
I got yap yap
Slam
[Verse 1]
How to make it an American
Where they die by the power of the gun
And they live by the fear of one
And a fair one is rarely an option
If you ain't got one I advise to carry one
Shots in reverse of the barrel of the pistol
Is kind of like shooting in the mirror
Niggas be killing themselves cause they feeling themselves
No Scared Straight, throw children in jail
General consensus is we off the hinges
Slam
Can't say a word to the judge, but he caught the sentence
No lacking homie, don't be caught defenseless
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
This that slam, hide it under the mattress
Ditch that van to the undisclosed address
Dish that gram to grammar school graduates
They gradually will develop those habits
Can't buy weed, you ain't got no dough
Can't ask me how you finna get paid
Ain't no thieves when the whole city broke
Breaking into cars in the middle of the day
Danger, danger, plus you got your banger
Police pull you over
Better hope that baby inside that manger make 'em miss they quota
Good Jesus
God almighty, why this shit so dope?
I got slam, put me on the track with one of these squares and they get smoked
[Hook]
Yeaaah niggas ain't never lackin out here cuh, never, where ever, whenever! You think they stopped making guns when they made yours? Pussy I got slam!
Innanet, Innanet
[Hook]
I don't need to worry 'bout nothing I'm good (How you doin')
I don't need to worry 'bout nothing I'm good (How you doin')
I don't need to worry 'bout nothing I'm good (How you doin')
I don't need to worry 'bout nothing I'm good (How you doin')
I got yap yap
Slam
I got yap yap
Slam
I got yap yap
Slam
I got yap yap
Slam
[Verse 1]
How to make it an American
Where they die by the power of the gun
And they live by the fear of one
And a fair one is rarely an option
If you ain't got one I advise to carry one
Shots in reverse of the barrel of the pistol
Is kind of like shooting in the mirror
Niggas be killing themselves cause they feeling themselves
No Scared Straight, throw children in jail
General consensus is we off the hinges
Slam
Can't say a word to the judge, but he caught the sentence
No lacking homie, don't be caught defenseless
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
This that slam, hide it under the mattress
Ditch that van to the undisclosed address
Dish that gram to grammar school graduates
They gradually will develop those habits
Can't buy weed, you ain't got no dough
Can't ask me how you finna get paid
Ain't no thieves when the whole city broke
Breaking into cars in the middle of the day
Danger, danger, plus you got your banger
Police pull you over
Better hope that baby inside that manger make 'em miss they quota
Good Jesus
God almighty, why this shit so dope?
I got slam, put me on the track with one of these squares and they get smoked
[Hook]