Glo Made That Beat?
Gang
Grra
DOA DOA
Gang
Bands Bands Bands
Grra
Grra
Gang Gang Gang
Gang Gang Gang
First thing first they can suck my dick
And it’s still ***** in the spliff
Mentioning my dead that’s how you get hit
f#ck that sh#t n#gg#, we gon’ switch up the whip
How y’all spinnin’ the Sev? Y’all ain’t never did sh#t
How y’all talking that sh#t, y’all never did sh#t, like
Go and pick up a gun, like
Mentioning JB that’s a ticket to death
Smoking Lotti, dummy don’t be next
n#gg#s really soft, y’all really AquaFresh
Spinning through the Sev and hollows hit ya neck
n#gg#s ain’t a score that we ain’t upset
Just ask the opps they treat us with respect
DOA the motto please don’t forget
Call up lil’ Gotti, Aiming for your chest
Who the f#ck is Keem he ain’t on sh#t
Married to the tracks, n#gg# never bent
Lookin’ for me, n#gg# on the bench
Sugarhill what? y’all n#gg#s really kids
Shot in ya’ head, Still ain’t never spin
Still free Nazzy Loc’ out the pen
Solid as a rock, punching n#gg#s brims
We the real flock, Glocks that extend
Boy we don’t run, boy we don’t trip
That n#gg# cap, was runnin’ fast, Rick
I was fourteen catching real cases
Lil Notti with me, moving real anxious
Trigger finger itchin’, n#gg# we ain’t brainless
Pissing me off, now Im upset
Ballin’ like Diddy, n#gg# I’m a vet
Still live long JB on the set
Sev Block, DOA, We Up Next
〈.?.〉 slidin’ up with the tec
Don’t spin in no V’s and get flipped
We the real opp, putting in pain
*Shot by a dyke, n#gg# you a lame*
Begging me for cash, n#gg# it’s a shame
DOA the gang, n#gg# know my name
Chillin’ with the opps you gonna get flamed
〈Verse 2: Set Da Trend〉
You got shot by a dyke, n#gg# you a lame
Mali that’s my brother, for him I’ma flame
I ain’t with the dissin’, I just leave you missin’
Get wrapped like a gift, n#gg# this ain’t Christmas
When I’m off the Xannies, I be feeling different
Me and Kay on the hit, b#tch and we ain’t missing
Me and JO back to back, we like Mike and Pippen
So long, ’cause JO look back, he still clicking
Clip ain’t see through, but it’s a thirty
Bro start buggin’, shootin like he Curry
See the opps, I bet he show no mercy
*Woo got poked, they got up in his jersey*
〈Verse 3: Kay Flock〉
Say we smoke all deads, we want all red, we gon’ die with that sh#t, like what?
On the bike, I throw all pegs, walk on both legs when I’m firin’ sh#t, like
ECG n#gg#s know what I do
They know what time it is when I bend through, like
I done boomed at his old heads, that’s a code red
Sha Gz, I’m looking for you
Stop ducking when I’m bending through
Shoot broad day, that’s nothing new
Spinnin’ through early, you got no excuse
n#gg# be cappin’ on rap, what he d-do?
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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