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letra de na3na3 - .223jerm

[intro]
we on x games mode
b-tch!
it’s pay day fellas!
gang gang gang
gang sh-t, gang b-tch, gang sh-t (gang gang)
gang, gang
gang, gang
gang, gang
gaaang!

[verse 1: .223jerm]
b-tch!
shut the f-ck up (what the f-ck?)
i be toting up these straps right at you bustas (b-b-bop)
how you only selling grams but you a hustla’?
y-you ain’t ever run no streets, you ain’t from gutta’
(gang, gang, gaaang!)

[chorus: .223jerm]
when it comes to fades b-b-b-tch i’m never running
watch me do the nae nae then just watch me hit the dougie (brrrt!)
talkin’ on the gang then on my momma that i’m busting (b-b-b-boom!)
how you say you got a strap but you ain’t ever tucking (rah rah rah)
[verse 2: christ dillinger]
pull up with a stick and i let that sh-t hit
and these n-ggas be talkin’, they grippin’ the d-ck
i got ice on my neck i got ice- alright hold on, hold on
okay let me stop playin’, ay
f-ck on a little b-tch like i just did a bit
i cut the blow and i come up with different hits
he just re-upped and i’m plottin’ on robbin’ him
i get the coke and i cut it with glycerol
sippin’ on, sippin’ on, sippin’ on wokhardt, you n-ggas sip tylenol
n-ggas be hatin’ on me cus they d-ck is small
come behing [?] smiled at me in the mall
she bought the perc and it look like an m&m
f-ck with a n-gga like me you aren’t seein’ them
we f-ck these hoes and you n-ggas be cuffin’ ’em
i don’t take pictures with fans i be robbin’ ’em
i don’t take pictures with fans i be robbin’ ’em
you in the comments but won’t break the law
og, b-tch we be smokin’ that
get to the money real fast like a runner back
you is a bum and yo’ b-tch she be sayin’ that
you bought my ep, i need you to bring it back
that’s for real n-ggas so you can’t be bumpin’ that
b-tch i be ballin’, i wear a starter cap
n-ggas be talkin’ ’bout [?], that’s a f-ckin’ cap
pull up on spider gang, n-gga we bussin’ that
bullets be flyin’, that fifty piece party pack
i put a n-gga in a box like a tesseract
real n-gga, you p-ssies ain’t testin’ that
[bridge:]
hahahahaha
real trap sh-t
ay, ay

[verse 3: 83hades]
always pimpin’
b-tch i got a shot, it’s like scottie pippen
always grippin’
if i see the 12 then i’m f-ckin’ dippin’
said he grippin’
but i know he not cus he steady b-tchin’
really tryna rob him but i’m tellin’ him we gonna kick it
in the kitchen
cookin’ up that sh-t then we gonna flip it
when i look around i swear to god i wan’ k!ll all of you
i just really wanna f-ck, the only reason that i followed you
and i’m pullin’ out a gun, these bullets just might f-ckin’ hollow you
homie get his witch back
on her lips like lipstick
cuttin’ people off, i cannot f-ck wit’ none that b-tch sh-t
pull up wit’ a big stick
hit up jeramiah, help me knock ’em off the hitlist
p-ssy you a kit-kat, snapped in half you ain’t with that
spend a bag, keep on tryna’ touch me i might k!ll a f-g
grippin’ mags, ridin’ with a pole when we swipe tags (f-ck!)
[bridge:]
(i said who’s f-ckin’ playin’ motherf-ck-)

- 223jerm

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