Better hope he die a gangster

Better hope he die a gangster

Super, out of here, yeah



I hope he die a gangster

I hope you plan on game, there's too much blood on these fingers

Send out a headshot, put 'em holes in an asshole

I'm running on X pills, I'm out of control

I'm running on X pills, I'm out of control

What you do to my neck piece? Woah

What you do to my neck piece? Woah

What you do to my neck piece? Woah



I do my thing, I do my thing, I spread my wings

For Myesha, for Myesha, I had a crush on when you was real

We eat Benihanas for breakfast, we got a chef at the crib

We got a semi auto, you the (?) this a motherf**king trip



Man I'm pissed off, I'm pissed off, somebody outta get killed

All of my instincts done told me that these niggas, they ain't real

Man I flew off on the scene, I had 300 on the whip, yeah

They can't even understand why they glorify my drip, yeah



60k on sip, 100 rounds in the clip

Somebody playing, they got spilt

Went I hit the Tec you better dip

Spit the block with the AK, I heard everything got flipped

In one hour smoked a zip, it took me one hour, she got drip

Gram of kush and a leaf

Told you niggas I'm a beast

If you try your luck it ain't sweet

I'ma put these niggas right beneath me

I make my way throughout the east

My plug 10 with the molly

I put your main in the knotty

I double barrel with the shotty

You pump faking with some riders

You lucky they ain't hit your mama

A lot of pain in my body

Got me smoking marijuana

Pulled up in his side of trenches

Pulled up, get a nigga whacked

Pulled up, took a nigga ho

Pulled up running through the racks



I hope he die a gangster, I hope he die a gangster

I hope he die a gangster

Man I'm pissed off, I'm pissed off, somebody outta get killed

All of my instincts done told me that these niggas, they ain't real

Man I flew off on the scene, I had 300 on the whip, yeah

They can't even understand why they glorify my drip, yeah



Just got a black card just to go in the wallet

Soon as I go in your jump I'ma go in your pocket

They call me East Atlanta Santa, I'ma f**k up the profit

I'm the grinch that stole Christmas, I might go in your stocking

I'm talking too cocky, I got so much juice

My wrist is too rocky, they done let Wop loose

I'm talking plug talk, this don't pertain to you

Cause I'm a trap astronaut, I use cocaine for fuel

You got a meeting with my shooters it didn't arrange for you

I bust your head and celebrate, man this champagne's for you

You're talking gangster but you'se a lame, this ain't the lane for you

This FBG and 1017, this ain't the gang for you

It's Wop



I hope he die a gangster, I hope he die a gangster

I hope he die a gangster

Man I'm pissed off, I'm pissed off, somebody outta get killed

All of my instincts done told me that these niggas, they ain't real

Man I flew off on the scene, I had 300 on the whip, yeah

They can't even understand why they glorify my drip, yeah