Mobb Deep

Mobb Deep - Gangstas Roll lyrics

Your rating:

[Intro: Prodigy] 

Ha-ha, uh man, y'all runnin' out of steam already? 

That's all y'all got man?, c'mon man 

We got the illest combination of this right here man 

That's all you got man? C'mon man 

You gotta be kiddin' me man 



[Verse 1: Prodigy] 

It is all so simple just add it all up 

My mail box is on fire, 'cause my checks don't stop 

Pockets full of chunky black, can't fuck with these crop 

That these niggaz be smokin', straight out the yard 

Might catch me in a burgundy chair, my shirt blockin' 

Fresh with my bandanna and Timbs, we outta there 

Pushin' to the limit like Montana did 

Army bags full of money, bullet proof this 

And that too, put some in the roof 

Niggaz be shootin' from windows, we untouchable 

Yea we is rich thugs, that shoot up clubs 

Make albums that click more than little drugs 

Infamous, 'cause, or if you a blood 

You goin' need that bandanna for your head, you go at us 

No shit our songs bump, and girls show us love 

'Cause they know who big, y'all got love then 



[Chorus: Prodigy & (Havoc)] 

I gotta have the big chain, or the watch yo 

(That's how "Gangstas Roll") 

I need me a big phatty, straight video hoe 

(That's how "Gangstas Roll") 

Back sit at the black truck, with the black rims yo 

(That's how "Gangstas Roll") 

In the club with my gat, what?, we got this shit sold 

(That's how "Gangstas Roll") 



[Verse 2: Havoc] 

Yo you ain't clappin' nuttin', splashin' nuttin', lettin' nuttin' die 

Real niggaz never advertise, what the fuck is on they mind? 

The real never stop until they get at, bringin' shit to where yo live it 

Tell whoever the other drama with, on the floor dyin' 

Out of there before the siren, bounce, dismantle your iron 

Lost count how many times, I had these bitch niggaz flyin' 

Give a fuck, shoot his ass, for the littlest thing 

The principal, minuscule, my gun is still ring 

You ain't flippin' nuttin', makin' cheddar, y'all niggaz broke 

Broke guns, broke dunns, y'all got jokes 

Yea I'ma hammer like a fiend, when he need it, let it smoke 

When you bitches act up, it relax even more 

Pretty sure niggaz know they don't – don't put 'em all 

When they finally figure it out, his slow ass gone 

Yea you runnin' with 'em, dime with 'em, try to switch teams 

And get your motha'fuckin' head blown off clean 



[Chorus: Prodigy & (Havoc)] 



[Interlude x2: Prodigy] 

Yea, Infamous nigga, we all up in these set 

The girls comin' with us, your money is a bet 

We gon' take all y'all money and smoke with the clique 

Ga'head and think funny, and we shootin' for you head 



[Chorus: Prodigy & (Havoc)]
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found