Freddie Gibbs, G-Wiz - On some G shit lyrics
Freddie Gibbs [Fredrick Jamel Tipton] Gary, Indiana, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Freddie Gibbs, G-Wiz - On some G shit lyrics]
On some G shit, On some on some G shit x8
I’m on my A, B, C, G anybody can get it
We gonna make a phone call, get em all gone
Put the little homies on, nigga good riddance
Give a fuck bout no law
Dope attire, Dope in draws
Run around with a but take it
Like a cowboy midwest outlaw
Pissy projects hall dwellers
All my closest homies felons, racketeerers
Money launder matters killers, Two-Elevens
Thug digit's, Drug bodies, Drug users
Drug sellers
I might kill you for christmas my
Full clip got new suppressors
Hit my closest homie baby mama
House and drop a G she ain’t hurting
That’s for certain but I know my
Nigga do the same for me hit the table top
Turn shoes on the other feet
One minute you up, the next you down
Make a nigga wanna down, who down for me
I’m on some G shit
On some G shit, On some on some G shit x8
I’m on some G shit stand on your feet bitch
Nigga ten toes down of keys of
Powder on the street bitch
No nigga gotta eat bitch
Seven days of the week bitch
Working on my 25th hour
Clothes smell like fresh Uncle powder
Want the power, get the cash
Make them murders, take a bath
Ain’t got weight, got no cake
Hoes ain’t letting you hit that ass
Brothers ain’t shit
Brother’s ain’t hitting it
Get a little cat, then i’m going to hit it
Silver Lac, foreign jesus
Rolling up fat, smoking on kisha
I just fed a 100 families
With the papers they reported
Shot a movie in my hood
The punk polices tried to spoil it
Whatchyou know bout flushing seven books of
Work right down the toilet
Never knew the hoes was looking
Pot still cooking Keep it boiling
I'm on some G shit
I’m on my A, B, C, G anybody can get it
We gonna make a phone call, get em all gone
Put the little homies on, nigga good riddance
Give a fuck bout no law
Dope attire, Dope in draws
Run around with a but take it
Like a cowboy midwest outlaw
Pissy projects hall dwellers
All my closest homies felons, racketeerers
Money launder matters killers, Two-Elevens
Thug digit's, Drug bodies, Drug users
Drug sellers
I might kill you for christmas my
Full clip got new suppressors
Hit my closest homie baby mama
House and drop a G she ain’t hurting
That’s for certain but I know my
Nigga do the same for me hit the table top
Turn shoes on the other feet
One minute you up, the next you down
Make a nigga wanna down, who down for me
I’m on some G shit
On some G shit, On some on some G shit x8
I’m on some G shit stand on your feet bitch
Nigga ten toes down of keys of
Powder on the street bitch
No nigga gotta eat bitch
Seven days of the week bitch
Working on my 25th hour
Clothes smell like fresh Uncle powder
Want the power, get the cash
Make them murders, take a bath
Ain’t got weight, got no cake
Hoes ain’t letting you hit that ass
Brothers ain’t shit
Brother’s ain’t hitting it
Get a little cat, then i’m going to hit it
Silver Lac, foreign jesus
Rolling up fat, smoking on kisha
I just fed a 100 families
With the papers they reported
Shot a movie in my hood
The punk polices tried to spoil it
Whatchyou know bout flushing seven books of
Work right down the toilet
Never knew the hoes was looking
Pot still cooking Keep it boiling
I'm on some G shit