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letra de you got me hanging on 6 mile - bandgang biggs

[intro: bandgang biggs & classic chill]
(my n-gga lee, i think we got another one)
(1-800 for you)
you know we in the bronx with it
a 6 mile n-gga, n-gga (ayy, ayy, ayy)
yeah (yeah)
knife gang in this b-tch, n-gga
come on, now

[verse 1: bandgang biggs]
fat n-gga, but them hundreds lookin’ crispy (b-tch)
i’m listenin’, you talkin’ money, you got my attention (what?)
fiend tryna clean my wheels off, i threw him fifty
here, take the money, he want bobby brown, b-tch, whitney (okay)
i shave a quarter off your face with this chopstick
we drop sh-t, and every time i see you, you on opp sh-t (lame)
pops sl!ckin’ n-ggas at your neck, you can’t stop sh-t (naw)
12 tryna stop us ’cause we got the whole block lit (we in this b-tch)
beat the trap door off the hinges, makin’ plenty sells
plenty bales, run up in this b-tch, you gettin’ sent to h-ll
every fail, send the reaper to you quick as h-ll
went to jail, knocked that sh-t out, you n-ggas quick to tell
whole hood hot, but, boy, we still in this b-tch
on any tip, you lay it up on me, my n-ggas send this sh-t
i’ma send her like shaq, bro, on kobe sh-t
’cause all he do is wanna shoot soon as he touch the ball
f-ck the mall, i’m tryna get a hundred before summer fall
it’s a louis shirt, so b-tch, don’t touch me with your filthy paw
read the clause, i knew how to trap before i knew to crawl (yeah)
do you want exotics or the scams? b-tch, we do it all
[chorus: classic chill]
you (you)
you got me hanging on 6 mile
you (you, you, you)
you got me hanging on 6 mile

[verse 2: bandgang javar]
she was used to n-ggas trickin’, tryna take her to benis
put her face on 1090s, took her to endi
f-ckin’ with the common names, you’re end up like 50
i was waitin’ in the cars, you brought it all back to me
i found out you wasn’t sh-t, put my mans on her
you found out you was a ho, put your hands on her
she used to shop at rainbow, kept some vans on her
i got her swipin’ out of town, now them bands on her
i know it hurt when you found out your b-tch wasn’t sh-t
i was in the feds, found out my b-tch gettin’ hit
what, you expect me to trip?
she had to run off with some cheese, you see me chasin’ a b-tch
i got out, ran it up like forrest gump, wasn’t r-t-rded
hit the road, made twenty, i was just gettin’ started
so much chicken, i should sell eggs to the market
got that sh-t on me, probably smell like i farted

[chorus: classic chill]
you (you)
you got me hanging on 6 mile
you (you, you, you, my n-gga lee, i think we got another one)
you got me hanging on 6 mile
[outro: classic chill]
yeah
you got me hanging on 6 mile
bronx style

- bandgang biggs

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