No Runnin’ No Duckin’ lyrics

[Verse 1: Lil Pooh]
Aim at your brain, with my thang, It don't matter
Constantly smokin', constantly locin', at the same time, pockets gettin' fatter
Gimisum Family down with Pooh, n*gga named who? Yeah, you heard
Flyin' like a bird, n*gga gettin' served when I'm full of them f*ckin' herbs
On my track, sellin' my crack, watchin' my back
Popo's in the ditch, one popo came up tryna creep Lil Pooh, had to pop this b*tch
Playa Pooh, what you wanna' do?
Strapped, like a army tank, armed, droppin' bombs, sounds alarm when I'm in the bank
Cops scopin', bud smokin', handcuffs up on my wrist
Takin' a chance, life or death, f*cked up in some dangerous sh*t
Frayser Bound, n*gga finna clown, clicked up with the Gimisum
Livin' like a thugsta, now my life is on the run

[Verse 2: Redrum]
Playa haters, perpetraitors, fakers in the human flesh
You can tell a buster b*tch coward by the way he dressed
Get so buck and call 'em out, from your yalk, they start to duck
Bulletproof vest can't save you, ho, damn, I guess you outta luck
Steppin' up in the club, player haters got that MVP
Got the kinda' protection, 'cause they always ready to D-I-E
R-I-P, B-I-T-E-B-U-S-T-E-R-Z
Livin' by the next n*gga, R-I, motherf*ckin' P
Strizzapped, wizza izza glizzock
Shoot you right between your eye
Never gonna buck you wizzouth God, so you can't say God made a surprise
RedruM n*gga, kill a ho, ain't afraid to catch a charge
Real n*ggas cleanin' pistols, busters gonna' hide and bide
Bullets no duckin', you b*tches, I'm buckin', your nuts should be tuckered
Just leave me no choice, kill a ho, make 'em drop their to their knee
n*gga, please, don't mess with me, I have no remorse
Bullets and buckshots, they spreadin', they leavin' outside
From my pump of my place to plastic Glock
Terrify, hollows and skraight for they player hatin' n*gga get's tortured, for touchin' my block
J Rock and Redrum just leavin' your body numb
I'm killin' and shootin' them teflons
[I bet you, this ammo possession, just gangster and sh*t?]
Your blood you gon' spit, your wig gonna split
So get up on the life support, stay the f*ck out of my f*ckin' range, you halfway dead, your family scared
Don't let me just tell ya no duckin', mane
[Verse 3: Rasta T]
Jump, better run then leave, as me din done up
You better, Rasta T [?] we comin' dancehall
Gimisum, Gimisum are my family
Yah, me come and punconstantly
[?]
Better run, then we mash up the scene
Girls they love me [?] got the sexy body
Tuckered then mess
[?] like karate (Woop)

[Verse 4: Playa Dre]
Ain't no duckin' when my pistol off a safety
It's too late to try to break my seventeen round gauge, n*gga, slow blow on your chest, while you runnin', no escape
With the Troopaz on my back, 'bouta go to war
Killer in disguise, go surprise enemies, when he creep
Hollow point thangs in the air, travel like a plane
Dead at your brain, put you in a deep sleep
Playa Dre the crooked type, pull up from the Five
Light Street, Seven Street n*ggas, off of Kney
Kenny, Skinny, Brown and my n*gga Yo Everclear
Put a barrel handle on the chrome .45
Dazed, full of hay, when I'm on a mission
Lookin' for a lemon tryna' hustle on a motherf*ckin' track
Lay 'em on his chest in the mud pop a slug, like a thug
Full of drugs, then I leave his skull cracked
Jettin' through the streets, on a chase, now the folk
Wanna' recognize my face, put me on a A.P.B
Comin' with the squad, tryna put me up in bond
But my n*gga Redrum, got the chrome .380
Buckin' on the hoes up close range
Train like a soldier, with the strap and we blow the map up
Breakin' laws quick, f*ck authority and the poli'
Better come with an army, If they wanna f*ck with us
n*ggas to deep bringin' drama to the door, for them n*ggas, with the anna circulatin' In the crowd
Ain't no duckin', player, so you think you got away
'Cause you already shot, when you fallin' to the ground
[Verse 5: Killamac]
Ain't no duckin', killer, buckin', makin' lemon n*ggas hit the floor
The G-L-O-C-K is in your face, don't make a move, ho
n*ggas that make a move, a point you approved, 'cause it's a sacrifice
Walkin' to my hood is understood that you gon' lose your life
R to the E, D, RUM tossin' bombs, with the killer n*gga
Hangin' with Lil' Stretch, uppin' my money, you can't f*ck with 'em
Say Lil' Killa actin' strange, I rearrange, to make it straight
But every time I come up, n*ggas always try to player hate
Gimisum, thrizzoughly you spizzud can not f*ckin' hide
Until I touch the blizzock, n*ggas seen the motherf*ckin' light
J-Rock got the glizzock, on your blizzock, it's a hold up
n*ggas is runnin', the Gimisum leavin' your body numb 'cause we gettin' f*cked up
And n*ggas is talkin' that sh*t about killin' my click
Step upon to the back of me, my life then flash infront of my eyes
But still It ain't no duckin', G

[Verse 6: So Serious]
Now to you imitators, dummy makers, pistol play, now poppin' slugs
A troopa in a mask, standin' tall, now whatchu' gon' do, cuz?
Prayin' for some blessins', one more second can I give it to thee
So many n*ggas D-I-E up in my hood and in the street
Livin' your life as a hustler, murder or robber, you got to live by your rep
n*ggas be fakin' a front with the unlaoded pump, they know, they be 'bout it themselves
We can do this western style, meanin', toe to toe, you see
Take ten paces to the front and turn around as I buck thee
Nine double M to the back of the head like a check, I'm gon' cash ya
Hocus to pocus, you witness my magic, alakazam, kaboom, I blast 'em
J-Rock stayin' his deadly ground, like Eastwood with the .44
I'm hangin' with the Gimisum, smoke weed and pick my afro
Slip in a bloodpool so smooth, now it's costin' you your life
You dun' f*cked up, the Skimask Troopaz creep at night
Come on young n*gga, you say that you pullin' the trigger, so let me see you release slugs
You dressed as a killer now mess with the gun
Consider yourself as killer-type thug
You dun' reached up under yo seat, you better use that .44
I'm standin' still like a soldier in the army
No runnin', or duckin', ho
[Verse 7: 211]
Rollin' Vogues and Octavos, honeycomb dip
I reach into my glove compartment for that full clip
Yalk on my lap, one hand on that wood grain
Im ballin eighty-five, steady floatin' in the brain
I'm punchin' up seven digits on the Motorola
As I continue sippin' on Remy Martin and soda
This n*gga crossed me out, now his cap finna get peeled
I catch him snoozin', pull up on his ass, big gold grill
Jumpin' out, lookin' serious, lookin' for that b*tch
And If I find his ass, I got a ditch, for that punk b*tch
It's been a while, since my gauge been crunkin' bodies in the trunk
And mothef*cker's smellin' like a skunk
There that n*gga go, I heard you runnin' you c*cksucker
He reached and I burned 'em, leavin' chest wounds, you stupid f*ck, yeah