Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Gangsta Report, artist - Philthy Rich. Album song Fake Love, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 06.12.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: EMPIRE, SCMMLLC
Song language: English
Gangsta Report |
Rest in peace to the boy, in the streets, unemployed |
With all these damn ones on me, it’s a morgue |
They put some bread on me, but what’s in store? |
Most my niggas got felonies, gangster galore |
I’m a gangster for sure |
Check my gangster report |
Ayy, they ain’t know I had the chop right up under me |
And a Glock in the hood where the muffler be |
Tell Pac that the hood still sufferin' |
Ten o’clock on the news, 'nother murder scene |
Bulletproof in the roof but it still drop |
I peel out, burn rubber on the pill-popper |
Lil' mama toss cock, she a drill doctor |
Make her whip a soft rock like she Phil Collins, real honest |
What’s in the dark hit the light like a beam |
Bitch on the park, I’ma fight, I’ma bleed |
You ain’t got heart, you a mark in these streets |
Bitch, I do what I talk and I call what I see |
I’m a real gangster, tight grill, big bank take lil' paper |
Accumulate more cash, how you kill a hater |
It’s through the banker, gettin' a bag, feelin' innovative |
Bitch, I been a gangster |
Rest in peace to the boy, in the streets, unemployed |
With all these damn ones on me, it’s a morgue |
They put some bread on me, but what’s in store? |
Most my niggas got felonies, gangster galore |
I’m a gangster for sure (Ayy, it’s Philthy, nigga, uh-huh) |
Check my gangster report (Ayy, do that, Sem City Money Man) |
Look, you was shootin' threes, I was shootin' enemies (I was) |
These pussy niggas crossin' game with no penalties (Pussy) |
I been rockin' all Gucci, bitch, double G’s (Designer) |
Check my gangster report, bitch, I been a G (It's Philthy) |
Because I’m havin' money, that don’t mean that I ain’t with the shit (Uh-uh) |
Yeah, I’m still with the shit but now a nigga rich (Sem City Money Man) |
Drop a bag on his head and get a nigga hit (Ayy, do that) |
Have every nigga in your city ride around with sticks (Philthy) |
Really in my neighborhood gettin' crack off (Seminary) |
I was really outside when it cracked off (Swear to God) |
Yellow tape, brake pads on the track off (Is that right?) |
Fourth of July, tryna let this MAC off (It's Philthy) |
I’m good in every hood that I push up on (Solid) |
Them blocks that I been, you never pushed up on (Never) |
You the type of nigga we’ll push up on (Sucker) |
Mini-skirt and high heels and your push-up bra, it’s Philthy |
Rest in peace to the boy, in the streets, unemployed |
With all these damn ones on me, it’s a morgue |
They put some bread on me, but what’s in store? |
Most my niggas got felonies, gangster galore |
I’m a gangster for sure |
Check my gangster report |