Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bang , by - Shyne. Song from the album Shyne, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 19.04.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Bad Boy
Song language: English
Bang |
| I done fucked *The Baddest Bitches* ask Trina |
| Give her coke to stuff between her, said she loved my demeanor |
| Felonies and misdemeanors, I’m villified |
| I just, rap on the side, black mafia ties |
| Prolific words, I speak for the unheard |
| Niggas who love guns, money, girls, and furs |
| Sittin up in the mans', runnin shit |
| On the phone moving bricks, orderin hits |
| Perfected the game, diamond infested the chain |
| Niggas think I change I just wanna watch 'em change |
| Livin the American dream |
| Drugs, violence, sex, and loaded magazines |
| That’s all I could talk about in these sixteen |
| Cuz that’s all I live, ask Tibs |
| It is what is, either graveyards or consecutive life bids, shit |
| Niggas wanna bang, we could bang |
| Niggas wanna slang, we could slang |
| Niggas wanna bang we could bang out |
| Til the clip’s done, or your vital arteries hang out |
| Hammer cocked, Bad Boy, the black Camelot |
| Raise the price and connect the dots |
| Through life’s journies, all I need is a couple of mack mils |
| A couple of mils and good attorneys |
| Skatin on big blades, goin out in a blaze in my last days |
| I’ll probably die with a bad drug trade or an overdose |
| Without tellin my moms, sorry it was close |
| My wife and my bitch fightin over my notes |
| All my niggas skied north makin a toast |
| Til hell, just gimme bad bitches in Channel |
| Connects wit, Chinese cartels and that new SL |
| And the judge that’s gon' set my bail |
| I’m on top of this shit, look at the wrists |
| Too much rocks in this shit, ain’t that a bitch |
| Make hits, til my last breath |
| With that nigga, the P U double F |
| So lay back in the cut motherfucker 'fore you get shot |
| I kill niggas on the spot like a cop |
| I did it all four seasons suites to a cot |
| Give bitches nothing but breathmints and this cock |
| Call me what, there’s a way to eat |
| And all we got is sports, entertainment or the streets |
| I’m in deep, think of Citibank when I sleep |
| Ching, ching like I was from Shaolin |
| Brooklyn nigga what you say, keep stylin |
| My air force ones you couldn’t walk a mile in |
| I love politics, narcotics, and violins |
| Bad Boy forever, we move in silence |