Mark Spits - The Smoking Gun (feat. Guilty Simpson) Lyrics

Planet of the rats, damage to you cats
Still standing, ran the gambit on your traps
Damn your acts, who cares about the facts
Hysteria, terrorists plan attacks
The Man tax purchases and wages
The NASDAQ rate and New York Stock Exchange is
In a bad way, shit, we need some changes
Plus some back pay, now the Iraq war's ancient
Blackwater scandals, Wall Street greed
The Man backing vandals and all the cheats needs
Gambling's a disease, so why you doing it with your life
While you're off scheming, another man's screwing your
I'm not poking fun, I'm just toking one
You can see the trail leading to the smoking gun
Red-handed like a deer caught in the headlights
Book'em, lock'em up after you read'em their rights
Slam the door shut, that's solitary
Get f*cked in your WHAT, that's kinda scary
Make you wish you didn't act like a asshole
How ironic, now your life's a fiasco
A whole string of bad decisions and mistakes
Listen, when are y'all gonna learn for shit sakes
Sounding like my pops when I write this hot
Rhyme then I spit it, got no time for licking shots
Unless we're talking about tequila
Not a gorilla pimp, criminal or killer
I'm just a law-abiding, upstanding citizen
I don't do drugs, my doctor prescribes me the medicine

Yeah, GS boy-boy
Phantom of the opera, music getting popular
Motherf*ckers noticing, hood rats stopping us
Trying to chop it up, but I'm on a schedule
I don't do regs, I do medicals
I'm incredible, yeah I had to say it
We made it and radio didn't have to play it
They paying no traveling, busier than ever
I came a long way from the semi's in the leathers
Yeah, we used to jimmy-in Barettas
Joy ride in cars used to get us through the weather
Winter nights, stash the material for shit I write
While you rep shit that you never did in life
What you acting for
I f*ck around and have my young dog crack your jaw
We don't fight, we riot
So I advise you and your crew shut up and be quiet
Shut the f*ck up clown