Lyrics Jump Out Gang - 67, LD, Dimzy

Jump Out Gang

Jump out gang
Jump out bang
We got ‘nuff firearms
But I still do up bare hangs
We got spinner’s and dotty’s
We got .40's and MAC’s
We got ‘nuff live corn
We gon' blow your chest out of your back
Jump out gang
Jump out bang
We got ‘nuff firearms
But I still do up bare hangs
We got spinner’s and dotty’s
We got .40's and MAC’s
We got ‘nuff live corn
We gon' blow your chest out of your back
Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt
See the four door pausing
Skengs out, everyone runnin'
But the corn just slapped and floored 'em
50 shots in that mop
That’s a round of applauding
My nigga does so much drills
Like he’s outside doing brick walling
Still pullin' up, no warning
I’m still not ballin'
So I went and done ten toes on the map, that’s walking
Hoes in my snapchat stalking
Smoking dope on periscope
And the fans like «Dimz ain’t talking»
Free T, rang me up in the morning
Still smoke amnes' in the morning
Bro got the phone lines twerking
Hashtag working
Two fat packs like man’s got Biggie & Sherman (fat packs)
My lane goes mad
Yeah they love my wordin'
War is war
I’ll hit him up with the witness there
I don’t care what he saw
And I still kick doors
Like prick;
put your face on the floor
I’m with M, he scored, I scored
It’s got more
I need a 4's times 4
We got amm, We got raw
Bruk it down
Hit the strip
We get paid
Fuck the law (Alla' that, alla' that)
& we switched dis up like this new 4 4
We’re sporting (New .40)
I’m cuttin' off ties this year
No more lose poorin'
We hang all the opps
Then put it on God, we warssing
Still stepping with joints on joints
Still pull up no warning (4's on 4's)
I play that AM position
Not for assisting and scoring (attacking midfield)
Thank God first thing everyday when I wake in the morning
Finish straight then we’re talking
Jump out gang
Jump out bang
We got ‘nuff firearms
But I still do up bare hangs
We got spinner’s and dotty’s (Still do it)
We got .40's and MAC’s
We got ‘nuff live corn
We gon' blow your chest out of your back
Jump out gang
Jump out bang
We got ‘nuff firearms
But I still do up bare hangs (Still do it)
We got spinner’s and dotty’s
We got .40's and MAC’s
We got ‘nuff live corn
We gon' blow your chest out of your back
Smoke
No joke, serve up
Cake coke
Trap til' I die, can’t be broke
Get that dough bro, whip that blow
Fuck the trident, they locked my bro
Gun smoke if you fuck with bro
No hype when I lurk on road
Do a drill then go mix some dough
Let’s lurk, let’s lurk
4 Door with the gang
Tryna' hit him in the shirt
Man don’t really talk
You can end 6 feet like dirt
Money afi make
Prop the ting push work (Whip it, whip it)
Just linked skrrt, skrrt
Bill up a zoot, do road then skrrt
There man talk like bitches
skrrt
Forget all the talk
Man drillers for Real
Man lurk, lurk
Life is a set-up
I’m beefing snitches
Them man dasheen
Come like women
They say ‘no lacking'
But they’re hardly with it (Gemz)
Back road or main road
Same way, man drillin'
Jump out gang
Jump out bang
Spin don’t jam
And the kick back’s mad
Leave hollows in your back
Leave you laid out flat
As soon as man gets whacked
Man ah man dash (Dasheen)
Jump out gang
Jump out bang
We got ‘nuff firearms
But I still do up bare hangs (Still do it)
We got spinner’s and dotty’s
We got .40's and MAC’s
We got ‘nuff live corn
We gon' blow your chest out of your back
Jump out gang
Jump out bang
We got ‘nuff firearms
But I still do up bare hangs (Still do it)
We got spinner’s and dotty’s
We got .40's and MAC’s
We got ‘nuff live corn
We gon' blow your chest out your back