Trife Diesel, Tommy Whispers - Gangsta Shit lyrics
[Trife Diesel, Tommy Whispers - Gangsta Shit lyrics]
Uh, huh, let's go, know what I mean?
Lot of these muthafuckin' rappers
Talking alot of bullshit on these tracks
You know what I mean?
They dry snitching, throwing indirect
Well this what we gon' do, man
We gon' flush all these rats out the system
Know what I mean? Set a few traps
Get they ass up out of here, yeah, yo
For all y'all niggas with them Nextels
Chirpin' and bleepin'
On them walkie talkies frontin'
Like y'all work for the precint
10-4 niggas claiming they hustlers
Soon as they cuff ya
In interrogation booths
Y'all confessing like Usher
Do the crime, do the time
That's the way I was taught
And fuck surrending to jake, nigga
I'd rather get caught
You got these niggas on camera
Frontin' hard with they team
Wavin' they hammers
Incriminating theyself on the screen
Roleplaying, imitating some movie they seen
That ain't gangsta
Real gangsta niggas generate CREAM
And now you wonder why the FEDS come knock me
Infiltrating the system
Don't be suprised nigga
You let those cops in
Plus the record labels is watching
You think they gonna sign you?
You think they gonna put up that
Bread and get behind you
Reality check, stupid, let me remind you
All that tryna push ya way through the door
Deceased in 9-2
Yah yo, yah yo, this is that gangsta shit
Go 'head and roll ya window
Down and crank that shit
Whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo click
My New York niggas get money
And slam those bricks
Yah yo, yah yo, this is that gangsta shit
Go 'head and roll ya window
Down and crank that shit
Whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo click
My New York niggas get money
And slam those bricks
In the hood, I'm a legend like John
I've never been harmed
On the block shooting dice
Holding bread in my palm
Gatten Island niggas
Yeah we got a fetish for arms
Berettas tucked in our leathers
Strapped with terrorist bombs
Shorties, running around with more
Gunz than Corey getting high off weed smoke
Blowing your funds on forties
You'll be amazed how these rappers
Try to run with stories
This ain't a novel, muthafucka
This is guts and glory
Pain and struggle, the game will crush you
It's a everyday hustle you want to eat
You better strain your muscles
Hopeless martyrs
Afraid when approached by mobsters
With them grams
Call me Sam the way I'm "coachin'" "carters"
With starters
Listen homey we can never be partners
Don't get it twisted
Handle business with my hands and revolvers
The grown man, that'll touch up your wig
Like beauty parlors
Pop niggas, like, how we pop
Bottles, you do the honors, nigga
Yah yo, yah yo, this is that gangsta shit
Go 'head and roll ya window
Down and crank that shit
Whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo click
My New York niggas get money
And slam those bricks
Yah yo, yah yo, this is that gangsta shit
Go 'head and roll ya window
Down and crank that shit
Whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo click
My New York niggas get money
And slam those bricks
Spot you twenty points
And you still can't win
You can't compare Grey Goo' to gin
You too thin
Ya'll niggas is hubcaps fuckin' with big rims
If the shoe fit, then your foot in my timb
Masked up, hoodies and gems
I couldn't defend your title small
A deuce-deuce next to a rifle
The hackle'll snipe you
Disconnect and dis-mic you
Disrespect your rivals
Have you dancing like Michael
Moonwalker, uh huh, platoon bark
Goons in the dark
Only lights from the spark
Boom boom in the parks
Vocals in fumes from my darts
Lead the roofs on the part
Fuck up your happy home
Daddy's back with a chrome
Snatchin' ya throne, you mimicking
You actually cloned
Finish him, I'm crackin' ya bones
Diminishing
Real terror, purple men, backed off pistoling
Like them papies uptown
Them hammers is whistling
Yah yo, yah yo, this is that gangsta shit
Go 'head and roll ya window
Down and crank that shit
Whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo click
My New York niggas get money
And slam those bricks
Yah yo, yah yo, this is that gangsta shit
Go 'head and roll ya window
Down and crank that shit
Whether ya red or blue, homey
Bang your click
My New York niggas get money
And slam those bricks
Uh, yeah, 718 criminal grind, Theodore
Trife Da God yo Slay, what up, my nigga?
Tommy Whispers, Kryme Life, nah'm'sayin'?
Money Come First
TMF we getting money over here
Gatten Island niggas, know what I mean?
Where the guns go off
Lot of these muthafuckin' rappers
Talking alot of bullshit on these tracks
You know what I mean?
They dry snitching, throwing indirect
Well this what we gon' do, man
We gon' flush all these rats out the system
Know what I mean? Set a few traps
Get they ass up out of here, yeah, yo
For all y'all niggas with them Nextels
Chirpin' and bleepin'
On them walkie talkies frontin'
Like y'all work for the precint
10-4 niggas claiming they hustlers
Soon as they cuff ya
In interrogation booths
Y'all confessing like Usher
Do the crime, do the time
That's the way I was taught
And fuck surrending to jake, nigga
I'd rather get caught
You got these niggas on camera
Frontin' hard with they team
Wavin' they hammers
Incriminating theyself on the screen
Roleplaying, imitating some movie they seen
That ain't gangsta
Real gangsta niggas generate CREAM
And now you wonder why the FEDS come knock me
Infiltrating the system
Don't be suprised nigga
You let those cops in
Plus the record labels is watching
You think they gonna sign you?
You think they gonna put up that
Bread and get behind you
Reality check, stupid, let me remind you
All that tryna push ya way through the door
Deceased in 9-2
Yah yo, yah yo, this is that gangsta shit
Go 'head and roll ya window
Down and crank that shit
Whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo click
My New York niggas get money
And slam those bricks
Yah yo, yah yo, this is that gangsta shit
Go 'head and roll ya window
Down and crank that shit
Whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo click
My New York niggas get money
And slam those bricks
In the hood, I'm a legend like John
I've never been harmed
On the block shooting dice
Holding bread in my palm
Gatten Island niggas
Yeah we got a fetish for arms
Berettas tucked in our leathers
Strapped with terrorist bombs
Shorties, running around with more
Gunz than Corey getting high off weed smoke
Blowing your funds on forties
You'll be amazed how these rappers
Try to run with stories
This ain't a novel, muthafucka
This is guts and glory
Pain and struggle, the game will crush you
It's a everyday hustle you want to eat
You better strain your muscles
Hopeless martyrs
Afraid when approached by mobsters
With them grams
Call me Sam the way I'm "coachin'" "carters"
With starters
Listen homey we can never be partners
Don't get it twisted
Handle business with my hands and revolvers
The grown man, that'll touch up your wig
Like beauty parlors
Pop niggas, like, how we pop
Bottles, you do the honors, nigga
Yah yo, yah yo, this is that gangsta shit
Go 'head and roll ya window
Down and crank that shit
Whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo click
My New York niggas get money
And slam those bricks
Yah yo, yah yo, this is that gangsta shit
Go 'head and roll ya window
Down and crank that shit
Whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo click
My New York niggas get money
And slam those bricks
Spot you twenty points
And you still can't win
You can't compare Grey Goo' to gin
You too thin
Ya'll niggas is hubcaps fuckin' with big rims
If the shoe fit, then your foot in my timb
Masked up, hoodies and gems
I couldn't defend your title small
A deuce-deuce next to a rifle
The hackle'll snipe you
Disconnect and dis-mic you
Disrespect your rivals
Have you dancing like Michael
Moonwalker, uh huh, platoon bark
Goons in the dark
Only lights from the spark
Boom boom in the parks
Vocals in fumes from my darts
Lead the roofs on the part
Fuck up your happy home
Daddy's back with a chrome
Snatchin' ya throne, you mimicking
You actually cloned
Finish him, I'm crackin' ya bones
Diminishing
Real terror, purple men, backed off pistoling
Like them papies uptown
Them hammers is whistling
Yah yo, yah yo, this is that gangsta shit
Go 'head and roll ya window
Down and crank that shit
Whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo click
My New York niggas get money
And slam those bricks
Yah yo, yah yo, this is that gangsta shit
Go 'head and roll ya window
Down and crank that shit
Whether ya red or blue, homey
Bang your click
My New York niggas get money
And slam those bricks
Uh, yeah, 718 criminal grind, Theodore
Trife Da God yo Slay, what up, my nigga?
Tommy Whispers, Kryme Life, nah'm'sayin'?
Money Come First
TMF we getting money over here
Gatten Island niggas, know what I mean?
Where the guns go off