Well, some of you
Might be sittin’ out there, tryin’ not like us
But we want you to know we’re good

I am a gun

Okay, frustration takes a fast cat
And slows him down like a bullet forced through
Disgusting Biggie Small’s fat
Still gets the job done
But only now it takes, like,
Ten gun claps to stab the fat of just one
The effort of a bullet through a hero’s cheesecake armor
Doesn’t make him a hero
More a metaphor for life
My effort works in full clips
Only hero was a farmer
‘Cause he helps me fatten up
And that’s my bullet aimed in strife

I knew this guy who was hell bent on getting over
I said help me paint this fence, shit
Oh my god, it's fun!
But it wasn't
I called him Huckleberry Fuckup
’Cause he pulled that crap like every day
And nothing ever got done
The frustrated
Crumble under the way to their own
Bubbling hate of their own brain
Effort's like a gunshot
A split second of man-made perfection
Dial-up speed and direction

So
Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun
Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots
Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots
Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots
Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news
Cut the wet words, give me effort
Let me give a little cause to the bickering
Then stop stop the sun sun from flickering
Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort
Cut the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots
Cut the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots
Cut the weak plots, gimme gimme guns

I won't deny it, I'm a straight rider
[You don't wanna fuck with Doomtree]

I've got ambitions of a writer
Like another famed victim of effort
Less effort, though
Well, I guess he took it and smiled
Five shots couldn't stop a knowledge dropper
Turned posthumous tip jar and clone donor
But fifteen could
[I think maybe it was fourteen, I think]
Give me the strength to pierce flesh
The highest caliber of focus
That, or give me death
The hammer pin, powder push
A simple try'll do
I won't lie to you
I'm simply trying to let that blood gush
I'm simply trying to slip past medocrity's lips
Just wanna kill that bitch from the inside
[You know what I'm talkin’ about]
The thorny Doom branch on the side of every blank loaded
Armchair thinker
And backseat liver
Your parents mock people like Anne Rice
You parody passion
My bullet will not think twice before bashing
[I won't. I mean, no]
Thank God I put effort into every little, tiny fucking thing I do

So
Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun
Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots
Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots
Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots
Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news
Cut the wet words, give me effort
Let me give a little cause to the bickering
Then stop stop the sun sun from flickering
Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort
Cut the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots
Cut the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots

Let me give a little cause to the flickering sun
Stop, drop, then gimme props, gimme gunshots
Gimme all that work, gimme ink spots
Gimme all that hurt, gimme snapshots
Lemme get a photograph and laugh under your bad news
Cut the wet words, give me effort
Let me give a little cause to the bickering
Then stop stop the sun sun from flickering
Gimme work, gimme hurt, gimme effort
Cut the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots
Cut the weak plots, gimme gimme gunshots
Cut the weak plots, gimme gimme guns

Bang
Pow


Lyrics submitted by rmcgoff

Gimme Gimme Gunshots song meanings
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