Gang

Pull up on you like a pamper
Come down my block you not gone be a happy camper
Rocking Margiela where's Mason
Draw down with a mask call me Jason
You took a L like the Lakers
You got a bitch I'm a take her
'Rarri is just like speed racer
That lil' bitch think I'm a date her
After I hit her with the pole
I told the bitch no

Bro put the beam on yo nose
I fucked his bitch up on camera
3 hoes aye
3 hoes up in the spot like I'm Santa
I pour a
(I pour a four)
I pour a four in my fanta
Like I'm Desiigner
Broads from Baltimore they straight to Atlanta
Came up so quick you woulda thought that I planned it
Look in his face I can tell he can't stand it
Nigga I don't gotta speak a lot
Let my pants sag so you can see the Glock
Say he hard but I'm knowing that he is not
I can look in his eyes and just see the plot
They don't know how a young n- grew up
Sometimes fucked up I still wasn't no screw up
See some shit that wasn't nun to us
Beat him bad made the boy throw his food up
Give her dick then I chuck the deuce up
At the Bottom I still had to move up
I grew up round trappers and shooters
These niggas like bitches they neutered
Stand toe to toe not going tic for tac
If it ain't bout a check I ain't chitter chatttin
And I ain't hear yo song cause yo shit is Wack

Pull up on you like a pamper
Come down my block you gone be a happy camper
Rocking Margiela where's Mason
Draw down with a mask call me Jason
You took a L like the Lakers
You got a bitch I'm a take her
Rarri is just like speed
That lil bitch think I'm a date her
After I hit her with the pole
I told the bitch no



Credits
Writer(s): Ian Brown
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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