Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Gangland, artist - PhillieDate of issue: 30.12.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
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 |