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letra de get down gang - bic fizzle

[intro]
(that’s some krishtall)

[chorus: bic fizzle]
ayy, bust it out the wrapper, a four with a batter (a four eight, ayy)
i can show you how to run up some cheddar (some money)
rented ar on the dresser, screamin’, “1klan” while i stretch your old lady aggressive
know i’m a big trendsetter, mask up, put a boy on the stretcher (on the stretcher)
packs in, i’m smoking on pressure (on pressure)
bad b-tch with me, gon’ do what i tell her
[verse 1: bic fizzle]
too young and ruthless, some n-ggas don’t f-ck with me (don’t f-ck with me)
i’m still good with you n-ggas, can’t post up me (can’t post up)
you ain’t on sh-t, n-gga, stop gettin’ hope up (huh?)
give me a reason, somebody gettin’ towed up (gettin’ towed up)
dolce & gabbana and louis, i’m mixing sh-t up just to pop on a b-tch when i show up
money and guns, we totin’ foreigns, walk on the beat, bet i step on your son
it ain’t no rude, we f-ck over you, catch your ass outta bounds
shoot you and the ref’ (murder one)
glock 26 with a switch in my belt (cash, grrt), go flap when i up out the side of my hip
i got more bullets than brady
mask up on a boy like jason (like jason)
run down, i don’t really got patience (no patience)
i’m tryna get closer, put somethin’ on the pavement, bah (bah)
ayy, wow (wow), all these drugs, boy, i better not cough (no coughin’)
had the condom and stick, went raw (went raw)
slip when i f-ck, i’ll spit in her mouth (pew, pew)
and the trap go pound for pound (pound)
miss his pay, gotta get back in town (las vegas)
dirty 30 my everyday carrier, i’m ready to up and put somethin’ in the ground (i’m standin’)
better smile when you see me, don’t frown (don’t frown, boy)
cl!ck up, i’ma shoot up your crowd (get down, boy)
gang members on go, no yap (no yap)
walk down, i ain’t shootin’ no houses (i can’t)

[verse 2: li rye]
hit his ho, say i f-ck on her better
i got me a trap b-tch and her name is griselda
all the opps fly me like a arrow
hit that fire, go chomp on his foot, b-tch, i sound like a whale
on my mama, we shoot out wherever
like i shoot out a sale like a tesla
figure four, this lil’ ho like a wrestler
he was long off the percs, i’d love to go sin, never touched him
double tip on my neck and my chest and my lip and my wrist
go outside and in this month and left him with a lisp
drop a bag on his ass ass and put one on his b-tch
i be ready to shoot, like my gun like my chick
i got some sh-t that i know they ain’t ready for
catch him lackin’, wrap him like a kid, roll the splinter
when i try to put too many up in the clip
some my new jays do gymnastics, watch him do a flip
my big brother a blood, but his pockets on crip (hold on, hold on, hold on)
we spin with a brand new stick, watch it sit off the rip
grab a switch, get to swingin’, that b-tch like a whip (whip, whip, whip)

- bic fizzle

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