| RBE, SOB that’s the gang bitch
|
| Aye, yeah, yeah yeah
|
| First things, first, shooter wit' me and he clutchin'
|
| Air this bitch out, ain’t got time for discussions
|
| Switch whips then go chill wit' my bitch like it’s nothin'
|
| But you would never know when you fuckin' wit' them suckas
|
| Can’t trust hoes, I can’t even trust my mainey
|
| She tell me that she love me that’s a mothafuckin' shame
|
| Buffs on my face cost a mothafuckin' Range
|
| But you don’t gotta pay it when you snatch 'em from a lame
|
| Can someone please tell me why they hate us so bad?
|
| Why these niggas so mad?
|
| Probably 'cause yo bitch want an SOB nigga
|
| 'Cause she tired of yo ass
|
| And I’m still wit' the same niggas I was raised wit'
|
| 'Strictly Only Brothers', we be strictly on some gang shit
|
| And that’s why, bitch I’m too anti
|
| I can’t trust these hoes, so don’t ask me why can I
|
| 'Cause she only want a nigga 'cause I’m on nigga
|
| Can somebody please tell me if I’m wrong nigga
|
| Buffed up like a strong nigga
|
| 12 years old was bustin' moves like a grown nigga
|
| You got the right nigga, but the wrong nigga
|
| Feds on the line, girl I can’t be on the phone wit' ya
|
| If you ain’t a loyal bitch, can’t get along wit' ya
|
| If you a broke nigga, I can’t smoke no strong wit' ya
|
| I don’t send 'good morin' texts', I’m the nigga who receive 'em (I receive 'em)
|
| These hoes ain’t shit, I’ma dog 'em and I leave 'em (Fuck that bitch)
|
| Cut a bitch off, you the nigga tryna keep 'em
|
| Prescription through the buffs, fuck niggas I don’t see 'em (Bitch I’m buffed
|
| up)
|
| Aye, and what these lil' niggas mad fo'? |
| (What you mad for?)
|
| How they feelin' froggy but ain’t leap? |
| Must be tadpoles (Nerd nigga)
|
| Keep a big clip, this bitch longer than a afro (Big gun)
|
| I’m married to that cash, fuck a bitch, I’m a asshole (Give a fuck)
|
| Black nigga wit' the Mac like Bernie (Like Bernie)
|
| Bro got the .30, he’ll shoot like Curry (Like Curry)
|
| Tints on the buffs, mothafuckas get blurry (Get blurry)
|
| And niggas talkin' down, 'LOL', I ain’t worried (Ain't worried)
|
| If it ain’t money I ain’t pickin' up my telephone (I ain’t pickin' up)
|
| And how these niggas real? |
| They get to runnin' 'round and tellin' hoes (Nerd
|
| Nigga)
|
| White frames see through fake like a telescope
|
| These bullets comin' to a nigga live like it’s Periscope, gang
|
| First things, first, shooter wit' me and he clutchin'
|
| Air this bitch out, ain’t got time for discussions
|
| Switch whips then go chill wit' my bitch like it’s nothin'
|
| But you would never know when you fuckin' wit' them suckas
|
| Can’t trust hoes, I can’t even trust my mainey
|
| She tell me that she love me, that’s a mothafuckin' shame
|
| Buffs on my face cost a mothafuckin' Range
|
| But you don’t gotta pay it when you snatch 'em from a lame
|
| George got the chop, make you lean like a bo' sippa
|
| T.O got the stock 20, five shots fo' four niggas
|
| Knew what these streets was when a nigga dove in 'em
|
| See you broke hoes a mile away, I got ho vision
|
| Quit shootin' at the ground, tryna have a nigga toe missin'
|
| I’m up top wit' it, tryna have a nigga dome missin'
|
| If yo bitch slide, she give all head, no kissin'
|
| Thinkin' I’ma cuff, LOL, bro this ho trippin'
|
| Pause bitch, I’ma mothafuckin' dog bitch
|
| And I stay strapped like I never go in raw bitch
|
| Y’all can have a million guns, still ain’t gon' spark shit
|
| Gang full of demons, ain’t no nigga finna cross shit
|
| Bro’s turned to fake niggas, swear I hate snake niggas
|
| Seen true colors, so this .40 have to paint niggas
|
| 7.62's for you suckas and who hang wit' 'em
|
| SOB bitch, if I’m fuckin' then the gang hittin'
|
| First things, first, shooter wit' me and he clutchin'
|
| Air this bitch out, ain’t got time for discussions
|
| Switch whips then go chill wit' my bitch like it’s nothin'
|
| But you would never know when you fuckin' wit' them suckas
|
| Can’t trust hoes, I can’t even trust my mainey
|
| She tell me that she love me, that’s a mothafuckin' shame
|
| Buffs on my face cost a mothafuckin' Range
|
| But you don’t gotta pay it when you snatch 'em from a lame |