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letra de gang in here - 3zzy & rio da yung og

[intro: 3zzy]
it’s the gang in here, gang in here, n-gga
(too raw)
b-tch

[verse 1: 3zzy]
big pole, ayy, to knock a n-gga down
n-ggas clowns, hit him with fifty ’cause that’s a hundred round
tie a brick on his leg, watch a n-gga drown
heard they got a trace on the case, f-ck it, i’m headin’ south
i don’t like to flock with these n-ggas, n-ggas be motormouth
i ain’t gon’ lie, when i flock, baby, i’m in and out
stitched-lip crippin’, if i get caught, then i don’t know nothin’
i’ma— with a whole hundred
i’ma leave it in they hood ’cause n-ggas know we good
young n-gga done had more hoes, baby, than tiger woods
ray j on gang gang, i wish a n-gga would
reach for these’ll have more blessings, n-gga, than jеsus piece
yeah, b-tch, wе in the house and scope it out
but i ain’t even trippin’ ’cause i already know what my locs about
i told my n-ggas quick, i need the gold, man, we in and out
i hit the fence and do my sh-t, we all go a different route
couple weeks pass, i buy an ar and a mac
a cool whip, some fly ’fits, and i’ma still have some racks
he tried to run, yell out, “ricky,” and hit his back
he tried to run, yell out, “ricky,” and hit his back
[verse 2: lou gram]
i’m really havin’ that sh-t by the way (big lou)
thousand ones, watch them b-tches fly away (a band)
i been pourin’ up eights, ask ray (ask babyface)
get love in the bay like mac dre (bay)
wockhardt, this a thousand-dollar cream soda
i’m up real dog sh-t, i put that on soda (r.i.p. soda)
i’ma need your lil’ stash if you knock it over (real talk)
i’ma be a millionaire, n-gga, i’ma show you (big lou)
in my closet, it’s all kind of drip (drip)
see me out, just know i got a stick (40)
lose your life, you ain’t ’bout to rob sh-t (never)
k!ll yourself, you think about takin’ my sh-t
i catch flights, i’m hardly in the city (yeah)
just on drank, i done blew a buck-fifty (wocky)
rich as f-ck, i could buy ten kidneys (ten)
on a different time when your watch worth fifty (lou gram)

[verse 3: rio da yung og]
i was just plain jane, now my watch cost sixty
drum in the 23, i’ll drop off fifty
ridin’ down 8 mile in a soft-top bentley
still’ll hit the greyhound with a knockoff bricky
servin’ fake dope, look like a brick, but it’s a replica
thirty hangin’ off my hip, ‘nother strap in the ethikas
on my way to the south side to serve jessica
i ain’t f-ck her, but she gettin’ hit dope, i be stretchin’ her
i ain’t never cut drank ’cause i drink big
hundred million dollars is the goal, gotta think big
sittin’ back with mike like, “d-mn, look what we did?”
two years ago, we ain’t even think we’d leave flint
now we on rodeo drive in a lam’ truck
every three or four days, i put a hundred bands up
that’s off rap, but i’ll still chop a hundred grams up
talkin’ business on the twelve, sellin’ dope off a samsung
[outro]
(too raw)

- 3zzy rio da yung og

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