Ras Kass Guns N Roses Lyrics
Guns N Roses by Ras Kass
[Intro: Lil' Fame]
Oh, the gods are now preparing
For the feast that waits us all
Uh, uh, here come the drums
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Uh, uh, here come the drums
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Woo)
[Verse 1: Ras Kass]
First the 4-5 kicks (Uh), then comes the coroner
Next call is the florist, mama wanna speak to you
The bitch need a summoner, John-freakin'-Edwards
A medium after the reaper came and greeted him (Woo)
Niggas is light in the ass, probably shit helium (Yeah)
The cocaine's Columbian, my bitch Argentinian (Hahahaha)
What, Elmer Fudd's in the club?
Told you, ain't no fun when the rabbit got the gun (Blaow)
You acting like the Man of Steel, and force a man to kill
Or become the man of wheels
Paralyzing by slipping on a banana peel, God damn, I'm real
Casper the Friendly when I finally rode a Phantom here (Woo)
Born-day cakes to wakes and a cold case
You no face, just wilting carnations in a old vase
Tuck in, make a man-gina, stay in a ho place
I walk in the booth and paint on The Crow face
[Chorus: Lil' Fame]
Another bastard casket closes
First come the guns, and next is the motherfuckin' roses
Another bastard casket closes
First come the guns, and next is the motherfuckin' roses
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
[Verse 2: Styles P]
I know you heard of me (Ghost) niggas refer to me
As 'Mr. Lay-em Down' or put his ass up in surgery
Get your gas mask, Fame, Billy and Ras Kass
And myself, I'll leave your ass in a trash bag
Hock-ptoo' on him, let the bullet follow the phlegm
The gem is like a pen so I drew on him (Artwork)
This is artwork, shit'll get dark first
Before I leave, I hit the automatic start first (Boop)
Y'all niggas fruity like Starburst
Before I shoot the gun, I had to drag it a 100 yards first
Next comes the roses, the preachers to read the Proverbs
Fuck around and leave your conversation on your Converse (Fuck around)
Your reflexes on your Reeboks
Nerves on your Nikes 'cause I'm nice with the G-lock (I'm nice)
Guns and roses motherfuckers (Guns and roses)
Nobody opposes, motherfuckers
[Chorus: Lil' Fame]
Another bastard casket closes
First come the guns, and next is the motherfuckin' roses
Another bastard casket closes
First come the guns, and next is the motherfuckin' roses
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
Oh, the gods are now preparing
For the feast that waits us all
Uh, uh, here come the drums
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Uh, uh, here come the drums
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Woo)
[Verse 1: Ras Kass]
First the 4-5 kicks (Uh), then comes the coroner
Next call is the florist, mama wanna speak to you
The bitch need a summoner, John-freakin'-Edwards
A medium after the reaper came and greeted him (Woo)
Niggas is light in the ass, probably shit helium (Yeah)
The cocaine's Columbian, my bitch Argentinian (Hahahaha)
What, Elmer Fudd's in the club?
Told you, ain't no fun when the rabbit got the gun (Blaow)
You acting like the Man of Steel, and force a man to kill
Or become the man of wheels
Paralyzing by slipping on a banana peel, God damn, I'm real
Casper the Friendly when I finally rode a Phantom here (Woo)
Born-day cakes to wakes and a cold case
You no face, just wilting carnations in a old vase
Tuck in, make a man-gina, stay in a ho place
I walk in the booth and paint on The Crow face
[Chorus: Lil' Fame]
Another bastard casket closes
First come the guns, and next is the motherfuckin' roses
Another bastard casket closes
First come the guns, and next is the motherfuckin' roses
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
[Verse 2: Styles P]
I know you heard of me (Ghost) niggas refer to me
As 'Mr. Lay-em Down' or put his ass up in surgery
Get your gas mask, Fame, Billy and Ras Kass
And myself, I'll leave your ass in a trash bag
Hock-ptoo' on him, let the bullet follow the phlegm
The gem is like a pen so I drew on him (Artwork)
This is artwork, shit'll get dark first
Before I leave, I hit the automatic start first (Boop)
Y'all niggas fruity like Starburst
Before I shoot the gun, I had to drag it a 100 yards first
Next comes the roses, the preachers to read the Proverbs
Fuck around and leave your conversation on your Converse (Fuck around)
Your reflexes on your Reeboks
Nerves on your Nikes 'cause I'm nice with the G-lock (I'm nice)
Guns and roses motherfuckers (Guns and roses)
Nobody opposes, motherfuckers
[Chorus: Lil' Fame]
Another bastard casket closes
First come the guns, and next is the motherfuckin' roses
Another bastard casket closes
First come the guns, and next is the motherfuckin' roses
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up
I lay that boy down, he ain't gone get back up