a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de doubt tha gang - n7 & pwap

[chorus: n7 & pwap]
never doubt the gang, b-tch, i’m confident
it’s only real n-ggas who i’m rockin’ with
you see stars in the ceiling, this a rocket ship
wayne gretsky when i bounce out with the hockey sticks
west side, b-tch, it’s west wap
big blower on me leave your chest hot
big bucks is the next stop
got a new glock for the next opp
hit a n-gga for his wristw-tch
got shooters with me like fort knox
four shooters, that’s four mops
that’s no witness, that’s no cops

[verse 1: n7]
exposin’ fake love, we don’t like that
’cause there’s money to be made, gettin’ right, fam
it’s cold water on my body like an ice bath
and i always keep a shooter, that’s my right hand

[verse 2: pwap]
only feel ’em ’cause we’re well known
i was bustin’ juggs off the cell phone
drop a six in a styrofoam
i pollute the cup ’til my mind gone
bend her over, now her spine gone
seein’ fake n-ggas through the blindfolds
yankee doodle, leave his eyes closed
and it’s wap sauce, no. 9, ho

[verse 3: n7]
break your chick and then i break her spine
broke n-gga need to step aside
shoot a n-gga like columbine
if he disrespect me and get out of line
roddy ricch, i need a dollar sign
finna k!ll the p-ssy, call it homicide
westland based, and that’s bottom line
sh-lls leave a square n-gga traumatized

[verse 4: pwap]
i’ll knock down a f-ck n-gga
have a big mac ’cause the yak hungry
it’s petty wap, stupid with the wobble
through the weekend, plus i keep the racks on me
yop on me matte black, homie
case a p-ssy n-gga wanna act phony
ain’t no friend of mines, i’ma tax brodie
i’m a real n-gga, check the stats on me

[verse 5: n7]
this sh-t rap money, but i been had it
i love f-ckin’ b-tches and i love trappin’
your mcm broke and he a drug addict
i keep guns in the house, i’m a gun addict
sn-tch the check, uh, uh, then i’m out of there
n-ggas hatin’ for no reason, man, they h-lla weird, ayy
dope got us sweating, it ain’t hot in here
i’m a young boss n-gga, but i ain’t a mayor

[verse 6: pwap]
free the mac, gotta make sure i make it quick
n7, wap on stupid sh-t
since sixth grade, ain’t new to this
on the west side, crew stupid lit
bag your b-tch and then bag a dummy
straight rags to riches, now it’s bags of money
dare a n-gga try to take it from me
he’ll be actin’ hungry, chop fill his tummy
mama told me, “watch your closest homie”
never had a pops, n-gga stoned from me
i’m forever lonely but i keep it on me
hot summer nights, kept the hoodie on me
four-fifth, i’ma put it on him
for an opp n-gga, pull a bullet on him
take his sides off, leave a mullet on him
on the dead locs, had to do it for him

[verse 7: n7 & pwap]
ayy, label the bag up and flip
yeah, the chopper could lift up a whip
we’re stackin’ the franks, n-gga, play with my kids
name another n-gga f-ckin’ with this
they tryna copy the drip
drummer sounds, make a beat with a stick
100k on me, i look like a l!ck
when i up the diss it make you give your kicks
my bracelet look like a glacier
and my chopper racist ’cause it don’t like n-ggas
b-tch, it’s pwap from the wicked street
downin’ prescription, i’m leanin’ on n-ggas
you had your chance at the throne too
we took it from you, now we is them n-ggas
we is them n-ggas, they see we them n-ggas
not flexin’ and ‘fessin’, i’m geekin’ on n-ggas

[verse 8: n7]
if foenem tweakin’, i’ma bust ’em up
said, “lil’ bro, quit the hate and get your money up”
why you talkin’ down on me, n-gga? show me love
she all through the night, your shooter let the brodie f-ck
they call me jackboy, make fake n-ggas feel uncomfortable
this chopper hungry, eat his face up like a lunchable
my n-ggas wild, h-lla wild, like a jungle book
but i don’t need the gang with me just to feel untouchable

[verse 9: pwap]
only gang who i’m rockin’ with
baby gave me neck, long esophagus
point glocks at the opposite
n7 cleaned up with the mops and sh-t
blessin’ n-ggas like the prophets did
copped a new bag like the rastas did
and it’s wap sauce, petty overload
i’m a wicked wizard, shout out to the folks
bouncin’ out with the f&n
several shooters lurkin’, waitin’ for the blow
i’ll never ever love a ho
put my hole trust into a totem pole
for so many years, n-ggas slept on me
but i’m up now, and i’m blessed, homie
keep a pretty penny, stupid checks on me
only 18, i’m a vet, brodie

[outro: n7]
godd-mn
is that it? we done?
alright bet

- n7 pwap

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS