Heavy Artillary Songtext
von Rick Ross

You know we got ′em
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery
We got them grenades on your ass, nigga
Boss, Black Wall Street
I'm in that bulletproof Maybach nigga
Teflon Don, SK′s

Nigga talking like a G but walking like a broad
I pull up at the light, pineapple in your car
Nigga I shatter lives, my music camouflage
My court killers at the center of my synagogue
Torture and extortion 'til I'm Fortune 500
From the porches to the Porsches with the wides on it

′Fore you snitches bitch, you better put your lives on it
Get your twisted body found with them wires on it
I get my money smoke extensive like it′s Friday
I'm sitting sideways like I′m in my driveway
My shit pancakes, my shit 3 wheels
You niggas six feet, we getting 3 meals


They got jumped
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery
They got jumped
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery

Yeah, I got 2 gun charges
2 felonies, just got off probation

Today motherfucker, won't budge for no charge
Real nigga, I hold no grudge with no thugs
Come through spraying, bullets out the McLaren
They ain′t meant for you, so move bitch, you hard of hearing?
I speed off doing 90 with Tha Carter blaring
Bust shots in the Cavalier like I ball with Baron
Yeah, I Blake Griff niggas, make stiff niggas
Eminem wasn't Dr. Dre′s only sick nigga

Insane in the membrane like Soul Assassins
12 gauge stop a nigga heart like a bowl of Aspirin
I hold automatics, let your man hold the casket
Murder game cold as Aspen, body found in the trash bin
First 48, they don't find me, case closed
Like a rehabilitation spot in Bobby Brown nose
Take 'em back to Boyz in da Hood when I pull the pump out
Something like C-Murder on Worldstar when I dump out


They got jumped
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery
They got jumped
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery

Uh, ain′t nothing changed but them bullets in my clip
I still′ll pull it, still'll bully niggas on the strip (Still)
Beef, I cook it fully with the fifth
And I ain′t got no pets, I put a bullet in your bitch
Nigga with a gun in his hand and won't bust it?
Is like a bitch with a dick in her hand and won′t suck it

This is the art of war, you niggas just drawing
Anything I target on is dearly departed, gone
Drive by or walk up on
I just stop, breathe, aim, cock, squeeze
Silencer on the Glock, infrared beam
Put your block up on machines while the pussies run and scream

They got jumped
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery

Yeah nigga, the real one in the building
Broad Street Bully, certified G for real
Lil' rap niggas fucks me up
Y′all niggas ain't tough claiming y'all gangsta, nigga
Game recognize game for real, what up Blood?
These niggas fucks me up niggas
My gangsta ain′t never on trial
Niggas talk that shit, nigga what′s your PP number nigga?
You niggas rat in the back of the cop car before you get to the station
You pussies ain't gangsta
You niggas wouldn′t kill nothing, let nothing die
Shoutout to all the real niggas
Boss, what up Boss? Ricky Ross in the building