| Yeah… Yeah |
| Check me out man. Yeah |
| Original gangsta, black clothes and bangers |
| Bullet shells and chambers, fill the L’s up We stay low from the ranges cause they tryin to tame us, but we brainless |
| And just think, I’m one sell out record away from being famous |
| Shit I guess I ain’t it You could paint it how you may, but I remain this gangsta 'til the day I lay |
| where the worms stay |
| I spit it for my nigga’s sake |
| I spit it for myself a long time ago |
| Got a few houses, few whips, few condos |
| I’m so straight I’m pointin |
| The game is hurtin, and baby boy the ointment |
| Baby boy the president now |
| Shit you gotta make an appointment |
| Two record labels |
| You should come join 'em |
| Do check the label |
| And make sure it’s yellow or rose 'fore you bring it to my table |
| Gansta’s don’t die, they get chubby and they move to Miami, I move to Miami |
| I’m banned from Wet Willies, but a nigga like fuck it |
| I’m still a G, thuggin out in public, believe it Gansta’s don’t die, they get chubby and they move to Miami, I move to Miami |
| I’m banned from Wet Willies, but a nigga like fuck it |
| I’m still a G, thuggin out in public, straight up Yeah… |
| Nigga playin, doing about 180 |
| Mazeratti, matchin drop top sun shade |
| Gotta be fly, P1 nigga, spent about five on a condo high in the sky |
| G4 whenever, fly in any weather |
| Had to pop a few pussies that was bad feathers |
| Million on the floor |
| Thats fo’sho’that lil’homie got the flow, so we all just goin flow |
| And don’t think about the past |
| A little water came, now we floatin on everything |
| Niggaz doing about anything, killin while they hustlin |
| Niggaz puttin it in for the change |
| So we headed to the game, Culpepper gettin his roll on |
| I’m on the side with that bling |
| And outside, got them thangs |
| Them Phantoms out there, we do it up, switchin lanes |
| Naw, don’t fuck with that dogg |
| Yo, I’m gonna knock your fuckin head off |
| And I’m coming back hard |
| Stunner get me to work, and I’m runnin that off |
| I’m comin back with it, and let my team split it With a swagger you can’t get, naw you can’t get it Shit, bitch I pop like Diddy, I pop like when he goin stop? When it’s empty |
| And you still drawing Leonardo D’Vinci |
| Trap me, I’m in there early, gettin money ridin dirty |
| Uptown puttin in down blowin out the pound |
| Duffle bag full of cash when I come around |
| The lil’homie got the game so I put him down |
| Hold my town, world wide wearin a crown |
| Like father like son, got it off the mound |
| Like father like son, nigga’s stand their grounds |
| Like father like son, nigga fuck them clowns |
| Yeah nigga, |
| Un-fuckin-believable |
| I know y’all hear some more shit about me and my little young nigga |
| You know, they mouth like they ass |
| Anything will come outta that motherfucker ya’heard me Big shouts to all them cities who opened your arms to us nigga |
| And let us through that motherfucker, ya’heard me Cause that water ran us out that motherfucker, but we did bounce back |
| Believe that 305, 404, 713, all that, Dallas, Kansas |
| Everybody ya’heard me, Oklahoma, yeah, everybody, the whole world |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Don't Die, artist - Birdman. Album song Like Father Like Son, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп