Damn! Look how muh-fuckers use a nigga Just use me for whatever the fuck they want I don't get to say shit Just grab me, just do what the fuck they want Sell me, throw me away Niggaz just don't give a fuck about a nigga like me right? Like I'm a f... I'm a gun, shit It's like I'm a motherfuckin gun I can't believe this shit.... Word up.. (word up..) I seen some cold nights and bloody days They grab and me bullets spray They use me wrong so I sing this song 'til this day My body is cold steel for real I was made to kill, that's why they keep me concealed Under car seats they sneak me in clubs Been in the hands of mad thugs They feed me when they load me with mad slugs Seventeen precisely, one in my head They call me Desert Eagle, semi-auto with lead I'm seven inches four pounds, been through so many towns Ohio to Little Rock to Canarsie, livin harshly Beat up and battered, they pull me out I watch as niggaz scattered, makin me kill But what I feel it never mattered When I'm empty I'm quiet, findin myself fiendin to be fired A broken safety, niggaz place me in shelves under beds, so I beg for my next owner to be a thoroughbred Keep me full up with hollow heads How you like me now? I go blaow It's that shit that moves crowds makin every ghetto foul I might have took your first child Scarred your life, crippled your style I gave you power I made you buck wild Always I'm in some shit, my abdomen is the clip The barrel is my dick, uncircumcised Pull my skin back and cock me, I bust off when they unlock me Results of what happens to niggaz shock me I see niggaz bleedin runnin from me in fear, stunningly tears fall down the eyes of these so-called tough guys, for years I've been used in robberies, givin niggaz heart to follow me Placin peoples in graves, funerals made cause I was sprayed I was laid in a shelf, with a grenade Met a wrecked-up tech with numbers on his chest that say Five-two-oh-nine-three-eight-five and zero Had a serial defaced, hopin one day, police would place where he came from, a name or some sort of person to claim him Tired of murderin, made him wanna be a plain gun But yo I had some other plans, like the next time the beef is on I make myself jam right in my owner's hand Chorus Yo, weeks went by and I'm surprised Still stuck in the shelf with all the things that an outlaw hides Besides me it's bullets, two vests and then a nine There's a grenade in a box, and that tech that kept cryin Cause he ain't been cleaned in a year, he's rusty as clear He's bout to fall to pieces, cause of his murder career Yo, I can hear somebody comin in, open the shelf His eyes bubblin, he said, 'It was on' I felt his palm troubled him shakin Somebody stomped him out, his dome was achin He placed me on his waist, the moment I've been waitin My creation was for blacks to kill blacks It's gats like me that accidentally, go off, makin niggaz memories But this time, it's done intentionally He walked me outside, saw this cat Cocked me back, said, 'Remember me?' He pulled the trigger but I held on, it felt wrong Knowing niggaz is waiting in hell for 'im He squeezed harder, I didn't budge, sick of the blood Sick of the thugs, sick of wrath of the, next man's grudge What the other kid did was pull out, no doubt A newer me in better shape, before he lit out, he lead the chase My owner fell to the floor, his wig split so fast I didn't know he was hit, it's over with Heard mad niggaz screamin, niggaz runnin, cops is comin Now I'm happy, until I felt somebody else grab me Damn!