GANG, Pt. 2
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang
You ain't "the streets" for real (For real)
You ain't a thug for real (For real)
MJ got me for this life, I gotta sing the deal (That's my slime)
Choppa gon' ride for real
You better hide for real (For real)
You was talking all that shit, now you gon' cry for real (Pussy)
Watch my choppa do the dance, I'll knock that wave cap off his head
He gon' throw dirt on the gang, now he RIP the dead
South side boys we still outside we don't play about our bread
I'm just saying fuck a beat, we 'bout to beat his ass instead
Imma just get deported (Word)
Purple inside my organs (Yeah)
I beat his ass record it (Wow)
I got the back distorted (Word)
See me outside, the foreign
See me outside, the foreign (Foreign)
All of my drip is 'Boring' (Drip)
Catch me outside, catch me outside
Catch me outside what you call it
Yeah, he confessing like he's Usher
MJ, Marcy, Shafi, Lio, yeah that's my brothers
Imma go outside, pop that bitch call the plumber
I got acid in my system, yeah I'm seeing colours
Yeah I'm seeing colours, I'm not 'bout that "seeing others"
Got two bitches nasty finger-fucking each other
Competition don't exist so where the scene come up?
Imma hit her raw so I don't really need rubbers
Uh, '45 beat the choppa, running he running he beat the jogger (Yeah)
Pussy, I beat that proper, lookin' like David Jones' locker
He 'bout to eat the copper, she call me daddy can't meet her father
He really see the proper kick in the chin like Keane with soccer
You ain't "the streets" for real (For real)
You ain't a thug for real (For real)
MJ got me for this life, I gotta sing the deal
Choppa gon' ride for real
You better hide for real (For real)
You was talking all that shit, now you gon' cry for real (Pussy)
We be outside for real
Never inside for real
Coop like I'm Bradley, but I ain't Cooper
I'm talking Bradley Beal
Tell me about your deals
Elyon got me still
Merci and Marcy, now we add Zi, kill we don't care how you feel, ay
I be livin' like I'm Mario, I keep on stomping heads
I been winning every races nigga, I'm always ahead
Now I'm getting bitches how I want it nigga I be fed
They be sticking on, I'm never cold my nigga like it's thread (Yeah)
You ain't a threat nigga
My shit is set nigga
My glock a tech nigga
I'm winning bets nigga
I got 900 contacts in my head nigga
Everything I've ever done I don't regret nigga
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang
You ain't "the streets" for real (For real)
You ain't a thug for real (For real)
MJ got me for this life, I gotta sing the deal (That's my slime)
Choppa gon' ride for real
You better hide for real (For real)
You was talking all that shit, now you gon' cry for real (Pussy)
Watch my choppa do the dance, I'll knock that wave cap off his head
He gon' throw dirt on the gang, now he RIP the dead
South side boys we still outside we don't play about our bread
I'm just saying fuck a beat, we 'bout to beat his ass instead
Imma just get deported (Word)
Purple inside my organs (Yeah)
I beat his ass record it (Wow)
I got the back distorted (Word)
See me outside, the foreign
See me outside, the foreign (Foreign)
All of my drip is 'Boring' (Drip)
Catch me outside, catch me outside
Catch me outside what you call it
Yeah, he confessing like he's Usher
MJ, Marcy, Shafi, Lio, yeah that's my brothers
Imma go outside, pop that bitch call the plumber
I got acid in my system, yeah I'm seeing colours
Yeah I'm seeing colours, I'm not 'bout that "seeing others"
Got two bitches nasty finger-fucking each other
Competition don't exist so where the scene come up?
Imma hit her raw so I don't really need rubbers
Uh, '45 beat the choppa, running he running he beat the jogger (Yeah)
Pussy, I beat that proper, lookin' like David Jones' locker
He 'bout to eat the copper, she call me daddy can't meet her father
He really see the proper kick in the chin like Keane with soccer
You ain't "the streets" for real (For real)
You ain't a thug for real (For real)
MJ got me for this life, I gotta sing the deal
Choppa gon' ride for real
You better hide for real (For real)
You was talking all that shit, now you gon' cry for real (Pussy)
We be outside for real
Never inside for real
Coop like I'm Bradley, but I ain't Cooper
I'm talking Bradley Beal
Tell me about your deals
Elyon got me still
Merci and Marcy, now we add Zi, kill we don't care how you feel, ay
I be livin' like I'm Mario, I keep on stomping heads
I been winning every races nigga, I'm always ahead
Now I'm getting bitches how I want it nigga I be fed
They be sticking on, I'm never cold my nigga like it's thread (Yeah)
You ain't a threat nigga
My shit is set nigga
My glock a tech nigga
I'm winning bets nigga
I got 900 contacts in my head nigga
Everything I've ever done I don't regret nigga
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang, gang
Gang
Credits
Writer(s): Ahmed Abdelshafi
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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