Lyrics Gangland - Phillie, Bronze Nazareth

Gangland

This right here for all my gangstas
Crip walkin Suuuuu whooping the pavment
Vice lords SMB seven Bloods
This right here for all my gangstas
Crips walkin Suuuuu whooping the pavment
Vice lords, GDs
Detroit stamped Signed Sealed Delivered
Got my boys amped for real ride for the skrilla
From the jungles of gorillas snakes and great Venom
I’ll be a voice like John Lennon when I’m finished
Ain’t a baller though I love to see niggas balling
I’m a author it all inspires my writing
Mike Tyson brawler y’all don’t want to see us
Roll with double D divaz with guns in they cleavage
That’s Victoria Secret she don’t even speak English
Throw the gang signs up she’s squeezing
Believe it period Like a nigga’s bleeding
Kick Rocks this is my block I ain’t leaving
Bobbing and weaving and watching and schemin'
Dodging and creeping they fall like the season
Before and after rap I’ll be a product of my habitat
Armed with a Helmut shield and a battle axe
This right here for all my gangstas
Crip walkin Suuuuu whooping the pavment
BMF, Ecorse, Latin Counts
This right here for all my gangstas
Crips walkin Suuuuu whooping the pavment
Vice lords, GDs
Uhh it’s Gun Rule, bob ya head like commence fire
I’m Just an esquire trying to get the empire
I Keep vaginas damp cramped, teflon, admire
Don of the state, couple priors, catch fire
In the near future, shift the claw, blazing loofa
Love my gun karma sutra, 64 ways to shoot ya
Lil compton, southwest, carries a fine
Jon Barry behind the line, I’m worrisome with mine Shit
Wheat timbs, brown beard like a dead pine
Red dead revolver rhymes ya highness servin lead wine
Motown, no subways, the end line
Joy Road the affliction in my enzyme
I got Big Plans, I’m risin like the rent signs
Clinch lime like a playoff berth
But let a stray off first
It ricochet off the bailiffs shirt
I aim to get that green nigga like the raven’s turf
A porterhouse, but a prayer first
For my niggas underneath layers of earth
The ashes in the surf or the beige tinted hearse
It’s the dealer and the culprit, how could it get worse
The mic is my pulpit, the music is church
Perched on the porch eatin perch, power
THC got the sour mocking cauliflower
The D we want the bread and the lettuce, olive garden
Nigga
This right here for all my gangstas
Crip walkin Suuuuu whooping the pavment
BMF, Ecorse, Latin Counts
This right here for all my gangstas
Crips walkin Suuuuu whooping the pavment
Vice lords, GDs
This right here for all my gangstas
Crip walkin Suuuuu whooping the pavment
Vice lords SMB seven Bloods
This right here for all my gangstas
Crips walkin Suuuuu whooping the pavment
Vice lords, GDs