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lirik lagu na3na3 – .223jerm

[intro]
we on x games mode
b*tch!
it’s pay day fellas!
gang gang gang
gang sh*t, gang b*tch, gang sh*t (gang gang)
gang, gang
gang, gang
gang, gang
gaaang!

[verse 1: .223jerm]
b*tch!
shut the f*ck up (what the f*ck?)
i be toting up these straps right at you bustas (b*b*bop)
how you only selling grams but you a hustla’?
y*you ain’t ever run no streets, you ain’t from gutta’
(gang, gang, gaaang!)

[chorus: .223jerm]
when it comes to fades b*b*b*tch i’m never running
watch me do the nae nae then just watch me hit the dougie (brrrt!)
talkin’ on the gang then on my momma that i’m busting (b*b*b*boom!)
how you say you got a strap but you ain’t ever tucking (rah rah rah)
[verse 2: christ dillinger]
pull up with a stick and i let that sh*t hit
and these n*ggas be talkin’, they grippin’ the d*ck
i got ice on my neck i got ice* alright hold on, hold on
okay let me stop playin’, ay
f*ck on a little b*tch like i just did a bit
i cut the blow and i come up with different hits
he just re*upped and i’m plottin’ on robbin’ him
i get the coke and i cut it with glycerol
sippin’ on, sippin’ on, sippin’ on wokhardt, you n*ggas sip tylenol
n*ggas be hatin’ on me cus they d*ck is small
come behing [?] smiled at me in the mall
she bought the perc and it look like an m&m
f*ck with a n*gga like me you aren’t seein’ them
we f*ck these hoes and you n*ggas be cuffin’ ’em
i don’t take pictures with fans i be robbin’ ’em
i don’t take pictures with fans i be robbin’ ’em
you in the comments but won’t break the law
og, b*tch we be smokin’ that
get to the money real fast like a runner back
you is a bum and yo’ b*tch she be sayin’ that
you bought my ep, i need you to bring it back
that’s for real n*ggas so you can’t be bumpin’ that
b*tch i be ballin’, i wear a starter cap
n*ggas be talkin’ ’bout [?], that’s a f*ckin’ cap
pull up on spider gang, n*gga we bussin’ that
bullets be flyin’, that fifty piece party pack
i put a n*gga in a box like a tesseract
real n*gga, you p*ssies ain’t testin’ that
[bridge:]
hahahahaha
real trap sh*t
ay, ay

[verse 3: 83hades]
always pimpin’
b*tch i got a shot, it’s like scottie pippen
always grippin’
if i see the 12 then i’m f*ckin’ dippin’
said he grippin’
but i know he not cus he steady b*tchin’
really tryna rob him but i’m tellin’ him we gonna kick it
in the kitchen
cookin’ up that sh*t then we gonna flip it
when i look around i swear to god i wan’ k!ll all of you
i just really wanna f*ck, the only reason that i followed you
and i’m pullin’ out a gun, these bullets just might f*ckin’ hollow you
homie get his witch back
on her lips like lipstick
cuttin’ people off, i cannot f*ck wit’ none that b*tch sh*t
pull up wit’ a big stick
hit up jeramiah, help me knock ’em off the hitlist
p*ssy you a kit*kat, snapped in half you ain’t with that
spend a bag, keep on tryna’ touch me i might k!ll a f*g
grippin’ mags, ridin’ with a pole when we swipe tags (f*ck!)
[bridge:]
(i said who’s f*ckin’ playin’ motherf*ck*)

- 223jerm

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