Gangster Test
Eastside, free 101, he doing life
Free Kenny Boy, he doing 68
R.I.P. Shay D, R.I.P. Jeron C
A.K.A. R.I.P. two
Nevertheless, a gangster test, get put to rest
Two to your chest, let me rip some flesh
I rip your vest, better come with your best
Get shut down
City from the orange and brown, keep them clip rounds
Never know when it's going down, bound to drown in the C-Town
Them P-Pounds, pop in the trunk when I'm dumping a load
It go down, pop in the drum when I'm dumping them rounds
Stop fucking around, it go down
Got a mini-Mac with a switch on the back, trying to kill the cat
Selling dope in the trap, at the car dealer
Cause a car dealer love a drug dealer or a nigga that rap
All facts, no cap, better watch your back
These niggas ain't friends, these niggas ain't that
Wanna be your friend till they get you jacked
I'm killing all robbers and ghosting all coppers, Dem facts
Smashing the glass, smashing grabs
Smashing the gas and blowing my bag
Cutting my cash to the last
Sending a blast, we spinning a mask
Pinning a tail on a donkey's ass
Monkey banana cash
Getting chunky, smoking funky gas
Pockets lumpy, bumpy cash
Leave you slumpy
Pump the pumpy, dump the dumpy
I fuck with chickens, Humpty Dumpty
Get to clicking with them switches, get your issues
Sports illustrated with the magazines, sipping wine
Cataline, got a lot of lean and a lot of beans
Can't stop a show, stopper big thing
Popping when I'm popping things
Coachella with the coc sellers
Pounds in the cellar from the wholesalers with the chicken wings
In the mist of the things, hear the shots ring when I'm killing things
Had them fiddling, they was loafing
Keep the toast in the oven like a muffin
Catch a nigga bluffing
Hundred dollars for a zip when dem lows in
Twelve hundred for the O when the snow in
Feel like Mozart with the ball pen
Feel like Piada all good cause the sauce in
Gotta be out of all flavors when the clock end
Gotta stopwatch on my street clock
Gotta pop out with the heat cock
Rock steady like I'm Bebop
Money spread like a peacock
I'm a Cardinal and a peacock
Piru at the treetop
East side
With the blick out, pull a stick out
Lights out like a blackout
Hit em with the blackout
Blow his back out
Walk em down like a track out
Free Kenny Boy, he doing 68
R.I.P. Shay D, R.I.P. Jeron C
A.K.A. R.I.P. two
Nevertheless, a gangster test, get put to rest
Two to your chest, let me rip some flesh
I rip your vest, better come with your best
Get shut down
City from the orange and brown, keep them clip rounds
Never know when it's going down, bound to drown in the C-Town
Them P-Pounds, pop in the trunk when I'm dumping a load
It go down, pop in the drum when I'm dumping them rounds
Stop fucking around, it go down
Got a mini-Mac with a switch on the back, trying to kill the cat
Selling dope in the trap, at the car dealer
Cause a car dealer love a drug dealer or a nigga that rap
All facts, no cap, better watch your back
These niggas ain't friends, these niggas ain't that
Wanna be your friend till they get you jacked
I'm killing all robbers and ghosting all coppers, Dem facts
Smashing the glass, smashing grabs
Smashing the gas and blowing my bag
Cutting my cash to the last
Sending a blast, we spinning a mask
Pinning a tail on a donkey's ass
Monkey banana cash
Getting chunky, smoking funky gas
Pockets lumpy, bumpy cash
Leave you slumpy
Pump the pumpy, dump the dumpy
I fuck with chickens, Humpty Dumpty
Get to clicking with them switches, get your issues
Sports illustrated with the magazines, sipping wine
Cataline, got a lot of lean and a lot of beans
Can't stop a show, stopper big thing
Popping when I'm popping things
Coachella with the coc sellers
Pounds in the cellar from the wholesalers with the chicken wings
In the mist of the things, hear the shots ring when I'm killing things
Had them fiddling, they was loafing
Keep the toast in the oven like a muffin
Catch a nigga bluffing
Hundred dollars for a zip when dem lows in
Twelve hundred for the O when the snow in
Feel like Mozart with the ball pen
Feel like Piada all good cause the sauce in
Gotta be out of all flavors when the clock end
Gotta stopwatch on my street clock
Gotta pop out with the heat cock
Rock steady like I'm Bebop
Money spread like a peacock
I'm a Cardinal and a peacock
Piru at the treetop
East side
With the blick out, pull a stick out
Lights out like a blackout
Hit em with the blackout
Blow his back out
Walk em down like a track out
Credits
Writer(s): Jermaine Allen
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.