RUNDOWN GANG
Uh, I'm really rundown gang, I let that bang (Boom)
Free Banga, was totin' a hammer (Boom, boom)
Spot an opp and my niggas gon' blam 'em
.357, this shit ain't no jammer (At all)
Grrah, grrah, grrah (Grrah)
Now he on a banner
I could never go beef with a dancer (At all)
Y'all niggas broke, man, go get y'all bands up
Uh, I'm really rundown gang, I let that bang
Free Banga, was totin' a hammer (Gang, gang, gang)
Spot an opp and my niggas gon' blam 'em
.357, this shit ain't no jammer (At all)
Grrah, grrah, grrah
Now he on a banner
I could never go beef with a dancer (Grrah)
Y'all niggas broke, man, go get y'all bands up
I been fuck all the opps since April (They know that)
When you comin' up them niggas gon' hate you (Facts)
These niggas really ungrateful
I done put niggas on and they ain't say, "Thank you" At all)
Like, grrah, grrah
If you know then you know
Bro got booked, still totin' the pole
We do hits, then we gotta get low (Gotta get low)
Oh, he think I'm a kid? I'ma send him up (Gone)
On bro, I'ma shoot the whole Sev up
Put the stick on my waist, I'm a demon
I'm tryna leave him, hop out and bleed him
Call me Brady, I throw, he receive 'em (Throw, he receive 'em)
Caught him lackin', he though I ain't peep him
Seen him
They know I'ma 'oot, I don't need a reason, look
Shoutout my gang, that's one (Yes)
Every opp shot, niggas know that's two
Them niggas know what we do
Number three nigga, just stick to the rules
Or I'ma just spin through the, uh
I'ma just spin through the back door
It's fuck all them niggas that fuck with them niggas
They really know that we Die 4
I'm really rundown gang, I let that bang
Free Banga, was totin' a hammer
Spot an opp and my niggas gon' blam 'em
.357, this shit ain't no jammer (At all)
Grrah, grrah, grrah (Grrah)
Now he on a banner
I could never go beef with a dancer (At all)
Y'all niggas broke, man, go get y'all bands up (Rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah)
(Uh, I'm really rundown gang, I let that bang—)
(Spot an opp and my niggas gon' blam 'em)
(.357, this shit ain't no jammer) (At all)
(Grrah, grrah, grrah) (Grrah)
(Now he on a banner)
(I could never go beef with a dancer)
(Y'all niggas broke—)
Free Banga, was totin' a hammer (Boom, boom)
Spot an opp and my niggas gon' blam 'em
.357, this shit ain't no jammer (At all)
Grrah, grrah, grrah (Grrah)
Now he on a banner
I could never go beef with a dancer (At all)
Y'all niggas broke, man, go get y'all bands up
Uh, I'm really rundown gang, I let that bang
Free Banga, was totin' a hammer (Gang, gang, gang)
Spot an opp and my niggas gon' blam 'em
.357, this shit ain't no jammer (At all)
Grrah, grrah, grrah
Now he on a banner
I could never go beef with a dancer (Grrah)
Y'all niggas broke, man, go get y'all bands up
I been fuck all the opps since April (They know that)
When you comin' up them niggas gon' hate you (Facts)
These niggas really ungrateful
I done put niggas on and they ain't say, "Thank you" At all)
Like, grrah, grrah
If you know then you know
Bro got booked, still totin' the pole
We do hits, then we gotta get low (Gotta get low)
Oh, he think I'm a kid? I'ma send him up (Gone)
On bro, I'ma shoot the whole Sev up
Put the stick on my waist, I'm a demon
I'm tryna leave him, hop out and bleed him
Call me Brady, I throw, he receive 'em (Throw, he receive 'em)
Caught him lackin', he though I ain't peep him
Seen him
They know I'ma 'oot, I don't need a reason, look
Shoutout my gang, that's one (Yes)
Every opp shot, niggas know that's two
Them niggas know what we do
Number three nigga, just stick to the rules
Or I'ma just spin through the, uh
I'ma just spin through the back door
It's fuck all them niggas that fuck with them niggas
They really know that we Die 4
I'm really rundown gang, I let that bang
Free Banga, was totin' a hammer
Spot an opp and my niggas gon' blam 'em
.357, this shit ain't no jammer (At all)
Grrah, grrah, grrah (Grrah)
Now he on a banner
I could never go beef with a dancer (At all)
Y'all niggas broke, man, go get y'all bands up (Rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah)
(Uh, I'm really rundown gang, I let that bang—)
(Spot an opp and my niggas gon' blam 'em)
(.357, this shit ain't no jammer) (At all)
(Grrah, grrah, grrah) (Grrah)
(Now he on a banner)
(I could never go beef with a dancer)
(Y'all niggas broke—)
Credits
Writer(s): Elijah Jeremiah Irvin, Henry Bryne Fisher
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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