Lyrics: Jayden Whittier-Jones
Music: Jayden Whittier-Jones/Isaiah Simmons
[Intro]
**** it, I'ma keep that bitch natural, niggas know what we do
Slatt (Questionizer, I like this beat)
I say
[Verse 1]
I'm a ****in' hooligan, but I be tryna keep the peace
It ain't shit to jump back in the field, big bro'll pass me some cleats
Goofy bitch talkin' 'bout, "We rich"
I asked her, "Who the **** is we?"
Girl, this shit for my OGs and all the guys who step for me
Ayy lil boy, don't front your move 'cause your ass might just rest in peace
Keep it cool while you in school 'cause niggas die for testin' me
I'm not candy, ain't shit sweet
Y'all got me hollerin', "Who want beef?"
Boom-boom-boom, we outside, knock on that door like Treat-Or-Treat
You niggas look up to me, I teach y'all everything y'all know
You ain't street, you is a bitch and all yo' peoples move like hoes
I ain't going for none of that shit, if you think I am, then your ass slow
I ain't no rapper, I'll still spank that ass, I'm not your average Joe
All that fighting shit is dead, you throw a punch, get turned to Runtz
Get the **** out the way, move bitch
I don't wanna talk, I'm on a hunt
In the same year, two niggas got hit up, same month
So don't lack, before your ass end up in the same blunt
[Chorus]
Pockets fat, the gang lit
I'm still on that gang shit
Fourth quarter, game six
Last second, I made a hit
Quick to blow you, better not cough
Get your ho, she tryna talk
She tryna get dipped in the sauce
**** the bros, then meet the boss
Pockets fat, the gang lit
I'm still on that gang shit
Fourth quarter, game six
Last second, I made a hit
Quick to blow you, better not cough
Get your ho, she tryna talk
She tryna get dipped in the sauce
**** the bros, then meet the boss
[Verse 2]
These niggas ain't ****ing with me, but I know that they trying
Don't nobody mind they business, that's why all these niggas dyin'
I am just a cool ass dude, stop me when I lie
Girl, you better not spill shit on my jacket, bitch I'm super fly
Making money, making racks
Spent it all and make it back
Girl, I bought you all that ass, please don't make me take it back
I do not trust y'all that's why I'm always mugging (RAMBO, RAMBO)
Ho say that I'm thuggin' but this just that gangster lovin'
Nigga, this ain't nothing new
If I cannot get to you, I pull up to your mama house and raise her mother****ing roof
I get shit hurt, I don't care 'bout what you heard
Nigga saying I'm a bitch, just cause I was in the 'burbs
With my gang friends yelling, "Gang Gang" (Gang Gang)
I'm Joe Jackson, I'm gon make that thing sing
I was with my gang friends yelling, "Gang Gang" (Gang Gang)
If you gangbang, we on the same page, nigga
[Chorus]
Pockets fat, the gang lit
I'm still on that gang shit
Fourth quarter, game six
Last second, I made a hit
Quick to blow you, better not cough
Get your ho, she tryna talk
She tryna get dipped in the sauce
**** the bros then meet the boss
Pockets fat, the gang lit
I'm still on that gang shit
Fourth quarter, game six
Last second, I made a hit
Quick to blow you, better not cough
Get your ho, she tryna talk
She tryna get dipped in the sauce
**** the bros then meet the boss