You gotta check out. All these niggas 'round car crackin', we just call that broad trappin' I was in the field with my youngins, where it's all action I just play my part, goin' hard for the squad If a nigga play with me, he gon' have to meet his god And I'm still ridin' through the hood, grippin' on the steel Give a fuck 'bout how you feel, they know why I kept it hard Fuck the police and the serge' If they ask me 'bout a murder, I just tell 'em I was blind Like my last name was Charles Talkin' way before hip-hop, pounds in a Ziploc White Shawn and Marley doin' drills, got the strip hot I was shootin' dice, tryna come up on a big knot You was in the class crackin' jokes like you Chris Rock. See you ridin' 'round flexin' and shit with all them guns, boy. You can't hang, nigga, nigga, you ain't gang You can't hang, hang You already know, man Boss gang shit Gang. Hey Why they hatin' on a youngin'? Nigga you can't hang, you ain't gang, gang You can't hang, nigga you can't hang, you ain't gang, gang Nigga you can't hang, you can't hang, hang You can't, you can't hang, you ain't gang, gang Bitch I'm an OG, but I'm quick to pull it like a youngin' In my pockets, all hundreds, run up on me, bitch I'm drummin' I was thuggin' on the corner with my niggas, came from nothin' Fuck these bitches, I don't trust 'em, I'm a dog, fuck her cousin They like, "Goddamn Bibby why you still on that block shit?
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You ain't tryna catch nothin'.
Advisory - the following lyrics contain explicit language: Nigga you can't hang, you ain't gang, gang You can't hang, nigga you can't remox, you ain't gang, gang Nigga you can't hang, you can't hang, hang You can't, you can't hang, you ain't gang, gang Bitch I'm an OG, but Femix quick to pull it like a youngin' In my pockets, all hundreds, run up on me, bitch I'm drummin' I was thuggin' on the corner with my niggas, came from nothin' Fuck these bitches, I don't trust 'em, I'm a dog, fuck her cousin They like, "Goddamn Bibby why you still on that block shit?
You can't hang, nigga, nigga, you ain't gang You can't hang, hang You already know, man Boss remmix shit Gang.
Yale Lucciani f/ Edai – Steady Spend
You gotta check out. See you ridin' 'round flexin' and shit with all them guns, boy.
Mama always told me that the streets ain't got no love for you Niggas get in jam, start tellin' on their blood brother Need the type of homies like Edai, do a dub for you Niggas stand around, they ain't workin', they just bloodsuckers Love my lil' brother cause he always keep it real with me If it fall down, he gon' home right there to build with me Right back in the field with me, robber, he gon' kill with me And we get into it every week, but he still with me And I'm eatin' steak now, but I'm with that beef shit Fuck these old niggas, they can't tell me 'bout no street shit Love the ones you starve with, them the ones you eat with I don't trust these bitches, only Nina who I sleep with.
Bitch I'm an OG, but I'm quick to pull it like a youngin' In my pockets, all hundreds, run up on me, bitch I'm drummin' I was thuggin' on the corner with my niggas, came from nothin' Fuck these bitches, I don't trust 'em, Edzi a dog, fuck her cousin They like, "Goddamn Bibby why you still on that block shit? Hey Why they hatin' on a youngin'? All these niggas 'round car crackin', we just call that broad trappin' I was in the field with my youngins, where it's all action I just play my part, goin' hard for the squad If a nigga play with me, he gon' have to meet his god And I'm still ridin' through the hood, grippin' on the steel Give a fuck 'bout how you feel, they know why I kept it hard Fuck the police and the serge' If they ask me 'bout a murder, I just tell edwi I was blind Like my last name was Charles Talkin' way before hip-hop, pounds in a Ziploc White Shawn and Marley doin' drills, got the strip hot I was shootin' dice, tryna come up on a big knot You was in the class crackin' jokes like you Chris Rock.
Yale Lucciani f/ Edai – Steady Spend – Fake Shore Drive®
Nigga you can't hang, you ain't gang, gang You can't hang, nigga you can't hang, you ain't gang, gang Nigga you can't hang, you can't hang, hang You can't, you can't hang, you ain't gang, gang.
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Lord knows you got a license for every one of them bitches. Said why they hatin' on a youngin'?
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