Stack Bundles, Jim Jones - Ya Dig lyrics
[Stack Bundles, Jim Jones - Ya Dig lyrics]
You already know what it is, ns
Exactly what the fuck ya'll was afraid of
Riot Squad‚ Dipset‚ Byrd Gang
Max‚ Bynoe, what up?
Capo, where the fuck you at‚ n? Yo
Get on the fuck from 'round me
I don't care what P's he hangin'
I never heard of him so
Tell him to keep bangin'
My ns is riders, it's strength in numbers
Whether six or that five‚
It's gangsters among us
I got the hood in a frenzy, they see how he
Open them suicide doors on that CLE
I beens doin' this, hoppin' out
Lookin' all Harlemish shoe game marvelous
Heavy on his charming wrist
You ain't got the heart to risk
Ya life for ya lifestyle
Pay to get acquitted for the
Charges like Mike Trout
I leave a wet trial, follow your nose
Gorgeous gangster around
Just follow the hoes
They all juicy sweatin' 'em, believe 'em
Flattered but when they start in five like
Mine your bench don't matter
Tints don't matter
They know who that car belongs to
I fuck her, but you who the broad belongs to
No matter the avenue, diddy bop
Swaggin' through g'd up flagging through
Two tone raggin' through
New Yiddy the City of God, city of czars
Riot's the Squad
Gang is the Byrd, movin' them birds
Man simmer down, murder the third
We rock stars, fast money and cars (Ya Dig)
You ns hustle, but you not on your job
(Ya Dig)
Play gangster, but you not that hard (Ya Dig)
Fly high with the Byrd
And the Riot's the Squad (Ya Dig)
Byrd Gang!
I got my back to the wind (Speedin’)
90 gram for the Range
Put the racks in the rims (Ballin’)
They say I'm loco for the jump (Uh, huh)
‘Cause I ride around town with
Explosives in my trunk (We’re fully loaded)
My jeans saggin’
Pockets swollen with the mumps (Caked up)
Tints on the V, when I’m smokin’ on the blunt
(That purple) my neck wear chilly
(Chilly) , fresh get illy (Fly)
I’m hoppin’ out the box, bitch
Next year Bentley (Oh Six shit)
It’s six dollars to wreck it, n
(Turn to unit's) and don’t be mad
Your bitch holler to check a n
(She couldn’t help it)
I heard you Big, but money ain’t the problem
(Nope) i’m hoppin’ out the Jimbo’s if
I’m hungry up in Harlem (yeah)
Yeah, that’s how we on it in my hood (Yup)
I’m rockin’ all my jewels
Any corner in my hood (I’m ballin’)
We all get aliases, it’s warrants in the hood
(Stop snitchin’)
And n watch yo ass, take caution, understood
We rock stars, fast money and cars (Ya Dig)
You ns hustle, but you not on your job
(Ya Dig)
Play gangster, but you not that hard (Ya Dig)
Fly high with the Byrd
And the Riot's the Squad (Ya Dig)
Exactly what the fuck ya'll was afraid of
Riot Squad‚ Dipset‚ Byrd Gang
Max‚ Bynoe, what up?
Capo, where the fuck you at‚ n? Yo
Get on the fuck from 'round me
I don't care what P's he hangin'
I never heard of him so
Tell him to keep bangin'
My ns is riders, it's strength in numbers
Whether six or that five‚
It's gangsters among us
I got the hood in a frenzy, they see how he
Open them suicide doors on that CLE
I beens doin' this, hoppin' out
Lookin' all Harlemish shoe game marvelous
Heavy on his charming wrist
You ain't got the heart to risk
Ya life for ya lifestyle
Pay to get acquitted for the
Charges like Mike Trout
I leave a wet trial, follow your nose
Gorgeous gangster around
Just follow the hoes
They all juicy sweatin' 'em, believe 'em
Flattered but when they start in five like
Mine your bench don't matter
Tints don't matter
They know who that car belongs to
I fuck her, but you who the broad belongs to
No matter the avenue, diddy bop
Swaggin' through g'd up flagging through
Two tone raggin' through
New Yiddy the City of God, city of czars
Riot's the Squad
Gang is the Byrd, movin' them birds
Man simmer down, murder the third
We rock stars, fast money and cars (Ya Dig)
You ns hustle, but you not on your job
(Ya Dig)
Play gangster, but you not that hard (Ya Dig)
Fly high with the Byrd
And the Riot's the Squad (Ya Dig)
Byrd Gang!
I got my back to the wind (Speedin’)
90 gram for the Range
Put the racks in the rims (Ballin’)
They say I'm loco for the jump (Uh, huh)
‘Cause I ride around town with
Explosives in my trunk (We’re fully loaded)
My jeans saggin’
Pockets swollen with the mumps (Caked up)
Tints on the V, when I’m smokin’ on the blunt
(That purple) my neck wear chilly
(Chilly) , fresh get illy (Fly)
I’m hoppin’ out the box, bitch
Next year Bentley (Oh Six shit)
It’s six dollars to wreck it, n
(Turn to unit's) and don’t be mad
Your bitch holler to check a n
(She couldn’t help it)
I heard you Big, but money ain’t the problem
(Nope) i’m hoppin’ out the Jimbo’s if
I’m hungry up in Harlem (yeah)
Yeah, that’s how we on it in my hood (Yup)
I’m rockin’ all my jewels
Any corner in my hood (I’m ballin’)
We all get aliases, it’s warrants in the hood
(Stop snitchin’)
And n watch yo ass, take caution, understood
We rock stars, fast money and cars (Ya Dig)
You ns hustle, but you not on your job
(Ya Dig)
Play gangster, but you not that hard (Ya Dig)
Fly high with the Byrd
And the Riot's the Squad (Ya Dig)