Lyrics:
Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (Hey Daz)
[Daz]
I heard of a lot of dope ass rappers and I'm down with 'em
In deed we all smoke weed and clowned with
the birds
Have you fuckin heard
Comin down knocked off a pint, what the syrup
Witha gallon
Lookin for a stallion
Comin down and I got the chrome with
social distant, hoes like, "When you not trippin'?"
I duck the party, who said they saw me?
Crown on Bob Marley, wrist on Yo Gotti
They gon' judge your
Counting it up
Looking staring at dey faces it You mad or what Mad or What
On da road outta town we been Running it up Running it up
Heard em talking what
love for my nigga named Screw
The Key-C's in this bitch, my nigga Jonathan
I got about 6 or 7 pounds from him
He broke em all down and we all got high
love for my nigga named Screw
The Key-C's in this bitch, my nigga Jonathan
I got about 6 or 7 pounds from him
He broke em all down and we all got high
Listen, it's Nolay aka Bella Gotti, yo
Every chick wanna be bad
So they rap about experiences
They've never had
Their boy's seatbelt is the closest
toast
Leave most in the blood they layin in, what, what?
The rings and things you sing about, bring 'em out
It's hard to yell when the barrel's in your
stacks
Sixty M's later and three hunnid tax
Still losing weight with the south on my back, nigga
I pray you play by the rules
I came so close
just don't wanna stop, crazy)
Crazy, crazy, shit crazy
Jeezy shouldn't have battled Gucci
Knowin' he was gon' rap about killin' his homie Pookie
waistbands
Money over bitches, we smother then we ditch 'em
I'll have 'em bag 'em up, butt-ass in the kitchen
I'mma leave bitches foamin' at the mouth
another motherfuckin' rabbit out the hat (yo, y'all niggas is fucking dumb)
Think I ain't got a trick up my motherfuckin' sleeve, you bitch-ass niggas
when you want it
Done hot payin you to meanzlest infratillity stop I paint pictures beatufully but
Niggaz is near sighted don't worry about plageris
got tricks in the stash
Stacking up the cash
Fast when it comes to the gas
By no means average
She's on when she's got to have it
Baby, you
Light one for a real nigga
Smoke one for a real nigga
Let's talk about real niggas
Since we always talkin' 'bout hoes
Talk to 'em
Pimp C was a real
like John Gotti
I ain't never told on nobody
Got tear drops, but nobody
Blew your brains out your head to make you think about it
I'm cancerous,
better kneel
When you see me comin
Big Scoob got em runnin
Sex when I flex I catch
Wreck on the world tour
With dough in my pockets big
Like the Biscuit's
'em down then switch 'em out
I got opps I don't know about
Stand on business, we don't talk about it
Murder in his eyes they steady hiding
He want
you zoomin' no crash
Bump this and have a blast
Boom boom
This that feeling that you feeling when you see 'em and you get em
Ain't no paranormal
what you done heard 'bout Atlanta
We finna break the standards, rubber bands instead of platinum
I'm a hustler, not a rapper
We gangstas, y'all some
know it's prey out there
Might be a food fight
I bury you cock-a-roaches till the tomb tight
God bless the dead, gesundheit
You won't catch me with yo
got tricks in the stash
Stacking up the cash
Fast when it comes to the gas
By no means average
She's on when she's got to have it
Baby, you
Straight from yo hottub piss
Nigga I don't do it
Fuck around here with you
Oh, I smell puke, do
That's on you, true
You hit's 'em hard dog
And ho went hard,
have no choice, they tell 'em Gotti do this thang
Disrespect that clique, eat a two-piece with the Flame
I'm reppin off that East Side, ain't never been
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