Schoolboy Q
Schoolboy Q - Gangsta lyrics
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Hello... Hello? Fuck rap, my daddy a gangsta Gangsta, gangsta-gangsta, gangsta, gangsta-gangsta, weed Gangsta, gangsta-gangsta, gangsta, gangsta-gangsta, G Gangsta, gangsta-gangsta, gangsta, gangsta-gangsta, groove Gangsta, gangsta-gangsta, gangsta, gangsta-gangsta, Q Figg Side! (They want that gangsta shit) Knock, knock-knock, knock-knock, uhh (Gangsta shit, gangsta shit) Knock, knock-knock, knock-knock, YAWK (Gangsta shit, gangsta shit) Knock, knock-knock, knock-knock, YAWK (Gangsta shit, gangsta shit) What it do, young niggas? What it do, young bitches? I got my drink in my cup, I got my Backwood, no Swishers And bitch, I'm faded, fucking faded, yeah, I'm famous What? I'm famous, fucking famous, nigga I made it! When I was broke, I got me that nine With my nine, I hit me that lick And then with that lick, it came with that yola With that yola, it came with your bitch And see now your bitch, she gon' work on that corner I don't care if that ho got pneumonia Give me racks and you won't get a quarter She don't run game, I'm the only controller So what's up now? Straight pimpin' over here Put that shit on burst, nigga I be checking ass all on the curb, nigga You could tell that she fucking with a Figg nigga What it is, nigga? Perrier Jouet Rosé, I might relocate Out of my mind, this world, I'm hot, gotdammit, I'm fly (Yay-yay) My grandma showed me my first strap My nigga Rat-Tone always had the fliest gats, I finally got mine dirt nap Real niggas don't die homeboy, we multiply Shit, come around my town you clown, that's suicide My momma said don't be that, that little nigga that sold crack Gangbanger that street jack, always trying to figure where the beef at Knock-knock your brain on the doormat, bitch nigga, what you call that? We on block patrol, nigga fuck your roll, got the gat on me Nigga look, it's right here, bulldog bark, you could die right here Real gangsta niggas don't have no fear, real niggas never tattoo their tears Hopping out of vans, disturbing your plans, all hoodied up, no Wu-Tang Clan Three J's letting off through that Aryan, call that bitch 3 for 10 I'm fucking up the streets again, tags on the toes all amongst your friends Let the barrell spin, get blended in, embrace the funk Groovy as I'm running through your system Seem like you only target Hindu victim Red dot, chicken pox type symptoms Sad day, had his whole family sickened Trying to state the facts, we don't care if he elect you black, we got a strap Gangsta shit, shooting me if I'm broke or rich, I got a bitch Ain't sober, kush odor, kush soda's, crip stoner Real soldier, head off shoulders, makeover