BiC Fizzle - Get Down Gang (feat. Li Rye) lyrics

That's some Krishtall

Ayy, bust it out the wrapper
Four way or better (Four way)
I can show you how to run up some cheddar
(Some money) mini 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 bitch with me, gon' do what I tell her

Too young and ruthless
So niggas don't fuck with me
(Don't fuck with me)
I'm still good where you niggas can't post up
(Can't post up) you ain't on shit, nigga
Stop gettin' your hope up (Huh?)
Give me a reason, somebody gettin' tore up
(Gettin' tore up) dolce Gabbana and Louis
I'm mixin' shit up just to pop on
A bitch when I show up
Money and guns, we too influenced
Walk on the beat, but I step on your son
It ain't no rules, we fuck over you
Catch your ass out of bounds
Shoot you and the ref' (Murder one)
Glock 26 with a switch in my belt
(Cash, grrt)
Gon' flash when I up off 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
Ayy, woah (Woah) , all this drank, boy
I better not cough (No coughin')
Had the condom and still went raw (Went raw)
Hold slow when I fuck, I'll spit in her mouth
(Pew, pew)
In the trap, go pound for pound (Pound)
Miss a play, gotta get back in town
(Like Vegas) dirty thirty my everyday carry
I'm ready to up and put
Somethin' in the ground (I stamp it)
Better smile when you see me, don't frown
(Don't frown, boy)
Clique 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 house
(I stamp it)

Hit his ho, say I fuck on her better
I got me a trap bitch
I nicknamed her Griselda
All the opps respect me like an elder
Hit that fire, it gon' chomp
On his foot, bitch
I'm somethin' like a welder
On my mama, we shoot out wherever
My guy shoot YSL like a Tesla
Figure four this lil' ho like a wrestler
Hit lil' Lana off Percs
I'll love her and still never text her
Diamonds hit on my neck and my chest
And my lip and my wrist
Got shot in his month
It left him with a lisp
Drop a bag on his ass and
Put one on his bitch
I be ready to shoot, grab my gun while I shit
I got some shit that I know they
Ain't ready for, catch him lackin'
Wrap him like a gift
Broke the spring when I tried to put
Too many up in the clip
Taught my new Drac' gymnastics
Watch him do a flip my big brother a Blood
But his pockets on Crip
(Hold on, hold on, hold on)
Spin with a brand new stick
Watch it sit off the rip grab a switch
Get to swingin' that bitch like a whip