Rick Ross
Heavy Artillery
[Intro: Rick Ross & Sample]
You know we got 'em
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery
We got those grenades on your ass, n***a
Ha ha, Boss... Black Wall Street
I'm in that bulletproof Maybach n***a
Teflon Don, SK's

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
N***a talking like a G, but walking like a broad
I pull up at the light, pineapple in your car
N***a 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 n***as six feet, we getting 3 meals

[Chorus]
They got jumped
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery
They got jumped
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery
[Interlude: The Game]
Yeah I got 2 gun charges, 2 felonies, just got off probation

[Verse 2: The Game]
Today motherfucker, won't budge for no judge
Real n***a, I hold no grudge with no thugs
Come through spraying, bullets out the McLaren
They ain't meant for you, 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 n***as, make stiff n***as
Eminem wasn't Dr. Dre's only sick n***a
Insane in the membrane like Soul Assassins
12 gauge stop a n***a 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, what!

[Chorus]
They got jumped
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery
They got jumped
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery
[Verse 3: Beanie Sigel]
Uh, ain't nothing changed but them bullets in my clip
I still'll pull it, still'll bully n***as 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 (ill)
N***a 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 n***as just drawing
Anything I target on is dearly departed, gone (gone)
Drive by or walk up on -- (walk up on)
I just stop, breathe, aim, cock, squeeze (squeeze)
Silencer on the Glock, infrared beam
Put your block up on machines while the pussies run and scream

[Chorus]
They got jumped
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery
They got jumped
45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery

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