Twisted Insane, Isle B, C-Bo, Ric Nutt - Gangbang Swang lyrics

[Twisted Insane, Isle B, C-Bo, Ric Nutt - Gangbang Swang lyrics]

Yeah yea yea Gold daytons, Low pros
I'm talkin' 16 switches on the low low
Oh, there I go yeah I'm a G
How many licks do it take to
Hit the back buckle only three
Pablo Esco on my metro Got the
Complexion now my connection's Petro
And if he ever out I hear wed-o
Cause he got the wet-o and
The heavy metal! Chitty bang bang where
They gangbang when they slang 'caine
Where the tray swang In
The k-flangThat's why I'm
Runnin shit One in the tip Gun
In the hip Any one of these niggas
Trip I go hard in tha paint
Do em like Shaq do guards in a pain
When that Thompson go off
They know it's beef
When their arms blow off to
The middle of the street

You see the fresh tats you see the big chain
Get in the game stop watchin
From the side man we in the fast lane
Never slowin down we got ahead trump
So you never gainin ground
You can talk your shit
You can blog your shit
But stay out the booth
Let the real mothafuckas spit
And I'ma say this one more time
Next talkin that I do is through
The barrel of my nine

Bumpin draggin Levi's saggin Calico's spit
Flames like a fire-breathin
Dragon Get off the wagon Fuck all the naggin
I'm from southeast San Diego where my
Niggas flame flaggin Cowards talk slick
With nouns and verbs yeah they
Never bust a uie and
Bang they datas on the curb Smoke
A little pot Drink a
Lot of patron and I'm comfortable
In any city's gangsta zone
My rep is full blown you 36 in a BG
I'm a boy in the hood like my
Name was "Easy" Got plugs
On drugs or whatever
You like, Got green, got pills, got soft
Got white
And I can make a deal seem so appealin
Get you high enough make you
Wanna dance on the ceilin
But, if you snitch on me
Nigga you know it's beef
When your arms and legs blowed off
In the middle of the street

You see the fresh tats you see the big chain
Get in the game stop watchin
From the side man we in the fast lane
Never slowin down we got ahead trump
So you never gainin ground
You can talk your shit
You can blog your shit
But stay out the booth
Let the real mothafuckas spit
And I'ma say this one more time
Next talkin that I do is through
The barrel of my nine

The other day
The homie took mine from the waist
Up in the wrong place standin with
A wife beater and a 38
With a perm lookin like Samuel
L and Jackie Brown wavin a pistol around
"Everybody get the fuck down!"
But don't be speakin about this G shit
If you ain't with it nigga
Walkin the street without packin
Your heat homie you needs to quit it nigga
Shit I was a little nigga watchin big
Homies pull the triggas with tha
And to get sick on these mothafuckas off
The rooftop I watched and hit ya
Everybody's off that gangbang swang
Then hit the corner nigga gotta fill
Up on the marijuana nigga
Two in doin too many those muchos on the
Streets takin that wakin that's happenin D
Then blame it on the rapper with the guts
And crack in the back of the seats
Yeah right never ran from a fight
Hit niggas with the left and right
Niggas pull guns on the ones they want
To get slumped with the nighty-night
When that Thompson go off
Then they know it's beef
When they arms blow off to
The middle of the street, yeah

You see the fresh tats you see the big chain
Get in the game stop watchin
From the side man we in the fast lane
Never slowin down we got ahead trump
So you never gainin ground
You can talk your shit
You can blog your shit
But stay out the booth
Let the real mothafuckas spit
And I'ma say this one more time
Next talkin that I do is through
The barrel of my nine

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