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letra de onna gang - daboii
[intro]
sh-t, i’ma name this sh-t onna gang n-gga
’cause, n-gga, everything i’m sayin’ n-gga, that’s on gang n-gga
[verse]
just ’cause you got yo -ss a gun, it don’t make you a gangsta
ol’ bad -ss lil’ boy, i’ll give you a spankin’
i know some n-ggas want me dead, i been keepin’ ’em patient
keep takin’ pictures wit’ all them hammers, ain’t beatin’ no cases
load the clips up wit’ gloves, i ain’t leavin’ no traces
i’ll leave up out this earth before leavin’ a statement
funk wit’ us, yeah just know that you beefin’ wit’ haitians
we ride around wit’ baby k’s on a special occasion
lil’ b-tch i’m a dog, but a lion at heart
you know that sh-t gon’ come to light, you can’t hide in the dark
and you can’t get up in this whip, catch you ridin’ a bart
and you don’t mean sh-t you tweet but be typin’ it hard
and every time i hit a b-tch, it be from behind
when they had me in that cell, i was beefin’ wit’ time
nah n-gga, i don’t rap just speakin’ my mind
daboii for president, b-tch i’m freein’ the guys
keep on talkin’ out your neck, that sh-t funny as f-ck
i’m finna pull up on your sister and bust me a nut
i’m not familiar wit’ no manners or no home trainin’
you the best liar of the year wit’ all that bold facin’
i’m just tryna touch a b and i got no patience
if you owe me pay me in full n-gga, no payments
i ain’t arguing wit’ n-ggas i be close casin’
boy i been about my chicken i be bojangin’
sob rbe we the most hated
keep prayin’ on our downfall, you gon’ hate it
ain’t no c’s in this p n-gga no banking
disrespectful lil’ boy, you’s a “no, david”
mouth on blingy bling, your b-tch want my jimmy dean
n-gga you don’t really want beef, you a chili bean
labels callin’, ringy ring
rob me? silly thing
lyin’ b-tch keep claimin’ i’m her lover, must be billy jean
and it’s 200 on this dash, valet i’m parkin’ at
it’s still a mystery, can’t remember where my heart was at
where my target at? g-lock wit’ me and i’m sparkin’ that
you talk behind my back, i take your b-tch
her back? she archin’ that
i keep that muf-ckin’ 4-0
and you ain’t got no problems totin’ that deuce deuce
i’m a young wild n-gga wit’ a old soul
90’s baby, middle fingers to the new school
i’m bad wit’ keys, just push the start and it go vroom vroom
he claim he up but in his pockets ain’t no beaucoup
this .40 go bang this 4-5 go boom boom
bip tu reminiscin’ gone too soon
why i’m so f-cked up in the head? i wish i knew the answer
b-tch lock that phone up in that purse ’cause i don’t do the cameras
hand me some hundreds, that ain’t blue then i’m throwin’ a tantrum
if i can’t pour up in that sprite i’ma go wit’ the fanta
i got some demons in my gang your gang full of jabronies
and i ain’t poppin’ out a pill, i’ma smoke me some dodi
it’s 3 peons in your whip, rolie, polie, and olie
leave a hole up in yo’ whip, now you holy and moly
onna gang
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