Blow the Horns on 'Em

OTIS JACKSON, BRYAN SIMPSON, Byron D Simpson, Otis Lee Jackson Jr

Yeah
It's our year nigga
Uh
Ok, yeah

It ain't shit to nail the verse
I might be the best ever, but I'd rather you tell me first
I was trained for the title
My music speaks volumes, hear me?
My clothes reek of Henny
Loner, I don't speak to many
It's over, time is up, keep your pennies
Haters want to eat my food
And you motherfuckers wonder why I keep my tool
Think about it, the hood is a firing range
Young kids high in the brain, admiring gangs
Inside they pick a side and ride on a nigga
Break down bud, put la in the swisher
Blaze that kush, get high with your sister
When the pot's consumed, cop a room
Get her drunk, make love to her jaw
Guilty Simpson nigga, your new borther-in-law

Yeah, blow the horns on 'em (horns on 'em)
We reign supreme and let it storm on 'em (storm on 'em)
We leave no survivors when we swarm on 'em (swarm on 'em)
Lock 'n load and wage war on 'em (war on 'em)
Blow the horns on 'em (horns on 'em)
Blow the horns on 'em (horns on 'em)
Blow the horns on 'em (horns on 'em)
Blow the horns on 'em (horns on 'em)
Yeah, we blow the horns on 'em

I'm so hot I need a fan, and you so not you need a fan
Your beats so whack you need a band
Naw, in fact you need a hand to clap for you
Or an open hand slap will do (bitch!)
I abuse you rap crews, you're no contest for the ruler
Cold as snow but much cooler
Old Man Winter with the temper to match it
Below zero flows, zip into your jacket
Play hero and get burnt like matchsticks
Spit that crack bitch so keep that whack shit
I'm in a league of my own
Bully of the block, you can breathe when I'm gone
Hoes gotta love it, their boyfriends don't though
When I'm in town, she a no call no show
Guilt Simpson, you know the name
She won't be back home until I'm on the plane

Guilty Simpson

Blow the Horns on 'Em

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