Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song On Gang, artist - Soulja Boy.
Date of issue: 08.08.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
On Gang |
Young Draco ain’t gon play bout them racks, bout them stacks |
Call up my plug, where the fuck them packs at? |
Call up my shooters, where the fuck them straps at? |
Can’t talk on the phone, cause I know 12 been tapped that |
I got a hundred fifty racks in my backpack |
Nigga think it’s sweet, but on my mama I’m gon that |
Hit him witht the chopper cause he was asking for that |
You wanna Imma tax him for that |
I’m skirting round with them racks |
AK 47 came with a shoulder strap |
Choppers and BMW in the Benz |
murk your best friend |
Stand in the kitchen, I whip up a ten |
Young Draco, I trap out the dope hole |
My trap jumpin like a yo yo |
Oo young nigga trap with a |
Try the funny shit, get hit with the draco |
I cannot trust a soul |
Watching my reer view, |
Bitch I be like I’m from the four |
Imma big blood nose |
What was you thinking bout? |
demans out |
Nigga we just had bought Nemons out |
we squeezing bout |
on the chain |
Nigga play gang, then we busting your brain |
I been asleep, I was stuck on the drank |
Put him to sleep, tryna fuck with the gang |
got paint by the lieder |
Ride in the herse, I be killing these niggas |
Like a fauset, i be drippin, lil bitch |
Ride with the stick cause shit can get |
My killers deadly, riding around with the |
my niggas |
Mansion in the hills, no neighbors |
That’s living, pour up the lean when I get in my feelings |
Double cup muddy, I’m sippin on red |
rap money, then put it on your head |
I remember I was busting down spread |
Now I ride around in a big body Benz |
Two foreign hoes, fuck her and her friend |
Riding with Draco with the draco, lord forgive me, yeah he know that I sin |
Hop out, and I kill you and your friend |
put the Glock to your chin |
Bentley what I’m sliding in |
Glasses on me, these Versace lenses |
You dn’t want no problems, I came from the bottom |
Don’t make me throw you in the grave |
We trappin, never had a day job |
I’m selling them P’s out a racecar |
I scoot up, and I shoot your face off |
I splash and I drip when I walk in the bank |
My diamonds more wet than a motherfucking lake |
I’m in the trap wearing two tone |
I break a bitch, I don’t do no dates |
All of these racks, I be feeling like Chapo |
I sware that you don’t wanna fuck with |
Splash up on you, and we knock out your taco |
like Tyson |
Don’t got no racks, we can’t talk about prices |
feel like fighting |
I’m always ready |
Keep a stick, my thoughts is deadly |
Two grams of that Molly, I’m rolling heavy |
Just ran through a hundred, I’m getting sweaty |
This bitch that I’m toating spit 50 shots |
Fuck all the opps, we spin any block |
Glock |
If I don’t know him up on the spot |
We shoot up at every spot |
They don’t play with my name, they better notI be shippin packs, |
we be selling out |
That nigga a bitch, he’ll sell you out |
Know that it’s blood in this bitch |
Know we gon trap out the mansion |
Watch my diamonds, they dancing |
We toating sticks in the Wraith |
Tell you you a bitch to your face |
that case |
Kicking in doors and running in houses |
thousands |
Bad bitch, I call her |
I got rich off a one way |
Flew your bitch out on a one way |
She wanna stay, but I made her go anyway |
I got some stories and some times where I made it snow |
I was selling work to make it to my last show |
We was sippin Ac, we ain’t know what we was sippin on |
We was red rag sliding, |
that’s what you trippin on |