| Ayo, I smoke dust and shoot cops, sold guns to 2Pac
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| Smoked blunts with Biggie Smalls and sold drugs on New Lots
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| I was too young, couldn’t get up in clubs back in the old days
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| We used rob and terrorize kids in front of homebase
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| When Funkmaster Flex was inside rocking the whole place
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| We was outside, smacking kids and snatching gold chains
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| Bagging mad pigeons, catching mad digits, bad bitches
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| And when they husbands came around we had to blast biscuits
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| A bunch of bad Brooklyn kids that always had pistols
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| Broken dreams and broken homes, we always had issues
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| And mad problems, worshipping gangsters and bank robbers
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| Watching Scarface, starting fights at rap concerts
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| Until we realized how to get the real money
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| Steal money, kidnap money, kill money
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| It’s funny how the money make the whole world love you
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| Jealous cats hate you, dime bitches want you
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| Little ghetto children run up on you, wanna touch you
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| Got the IRS looking at you, wanna fuck you
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| Sniffing so much blow, you don’t know if you can trust you
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| Ecstasy react to what the cocaine and the dust do
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| Go against the ILL Bill and Non Phixion will crush you
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| Bust you, leave you with a tube in your throat to suck through
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| We truck jewels, these dust brothers fuck mothers
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| The thugs love us, rap for the gunslingers and drug hustlers
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| Where my gangstas at?
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| Cuts:
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| «Is you a gangsta?»
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| «With gangsta rap» |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Gangsta Rap , by - Ill Bill. Song from the album Howie Made Me Do It, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп