Horror feat. Tyler Woods - The Lox

We the bang, shoot 'em up gang

We up in the streets, see the wolves and the fangs

You can see the horror through the scope with an aim

All the real G’s front line do the same

Criminal mindstate, crack on my mom plate

Lox on that murder shit, we boost the crime rate

All black bandana, connects in Atlanta

Trayvon hoodie on, taped up banana

My nigga on that wild shit, life ain’t the way he planned it

When he fought a traffic ticket, fuck around and got remanded

All I keep is cash money, stacks in the rubber band

She don’t wanna fuck with him, she said he’s a bird man

Now I’m on my weed shit, early morning trying to find a dutch

Letters from Valhalla, I’m trying to stay in touch

Even though I’m rich, I jump out of the car with the AR

Yo Tyler, tell him who we are

We the bang, shoot 'em up gang

We up in the streets, see the wolves and the fangs

You can see the horror through the scope with an aim

All the real G’s front line do the same

Yeah, you wanna fuck with The LOX boy?

(boy)

You better come with that Glock boy (boy)

Yeah they run with them dope boys (boys)

All the killers and gangsters boy

Let it bang, never will the goonery stop

The devil knocked the same time opportunity knocked

I’m sick, like I never have immunity shots

I’m in the mood to let off, who in the mood to get popped?

I’m hungry, like I ain’t got no food in the pot

What I can do with this work, what I can do with the Glock

I can get the strip lit up, cause a funeral ah

Let it squeeze and feel it in my cuticles ah

Yellow M6, shit brown hoopde

You ain’t that wavy, you ain’t that loopy

Welcome to the fellowship, salute me or shoot me

Alpha Wolf Ghost, let it bang with the uzi

Silence is still golden

Salute to the niggas that blew a couple M’s on nothing and still holding

Clip empty, barrel still smoking

It wasn’t done right if the casket is still open

Revoked ya G pass, wake, funeral then the reed passed

Deserve a hollow tip in each knee cap

Cover in killers that just relapsed

Show up where you sleep at, eat at, believe that

Yeah, buckshot slugs in every shottie

Cause the gates ain’t pearly for everybody

The horror of not being able to see the 'morrow

Is the saga of this thing of ours that we apart of