GG (feat. Beno)

M-I-A Jay C (Jay C)

Bitch, I'm BGSG, dope strong as Pepsi
Main bitch sexy, I ride around, she neck me
Gang-gang stamp me, I'll play you if you let me
And we rollin' heavy, got cutters like a deli (whoo)
This shit, it get so serious, I can't tell no lies
That shit hurt me so bad when my auntie died
That shit hurt my soul bad, seen my mama cry
And when you ride through my hood, better know how to slide

This shit'd hurt my pride if I couldn't provide
I'd rather be locked or gone with my niggas that died
Everybody can't be down, some niggas can't ride
Every bitch 'round me know she stuck 'til she dry (uh)
He don't even know his ho fuck on the low
You don't even see my ho, she super grown (she super grown)
I'll pull up on your block, and I'll drop sixty-four (drop sixty-four)
Spin around the block again, drop sixty more

That's a light one-twenty-four
In the sixty lane doin' a buck-twenty, ho
This bitch, she super bad, I don't know what she on
I just see the pain in my cup, and then I sip some more
Damn bro, what they hit you for? 'Cause we tryna get some more
I just poured LeSean McCoy, but I still could sip some more
S-Shoot them bitches gone, she look like a give-and-go
Bitch give me them coins, I guess I'm what she was wishing for
Bitch wasn't tryna listen, though, had to let that bitch go (whoo)

Bitch, I'm BGSG, dope strong as Pepsi
Main bitch sexy, I ride around, she neck me
Gang-gang stamp me, I'll play you if you let me
And we rollin' heavy, got cutters like a deli (whoo)
This shit, it get so serious, I can't tell no lies
That shit hurt me so bad when my auntie died
That shit hurt my soul bad, seen my mama cry
And when you ride through my hood, better know how to slide

Ridin' in that drop-head, I cannot disguise it
I heard them bitches watchin', them bitches watchin'
Them bitches more than watchin', them bitches plottin'
I heard he pocket watchin', I can't wait to pop him
This bitch just like to shake her ass and she can't wait to drop it
They put the feds on us, even they couldn't stop it
Even them bitches watchin', fuck it, we ain't stoppin'
Got hella gifties in, like I'm goin' Christmas shoppin'

Same day, ran through the load and we already coppin'
You see that codeine and promethazine, my baby bottle
I'm out of town servin' white girl, call it Lady Gaga
Old boy, you playin' with that bag, I guess you tryna die, huh?
Got niggas talkin' 'bout our line-ups, George Blaha
Yeah, we got it, ah-ha, can you get it now-now?
We go up top, bye-bye, well-connected, Wi-Fi
All facts, voilà, three-fifty deep-fried



Credits
Writer(s): Joshua Camron White, Richard Riggans
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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